


Pathetic

by MoonsAndStarsDogsAndWolves



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter), OC, Orion Black's A+ Parenting, Post-Sirius Black's Prank on Severus Snape, Sirius Black as Padfoot, Slow Burn, The Marauder's Map, Walburga Black's A+ Parenting, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:01:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 78,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28821144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonsAndStarsDogsAndWolves/pseuds/MoonsAndStarsDogsAndWolves
Summary: His mother was right. She had always been right. He was a failure, a corruption, a parasite. He was pathetic.The Marauders won't speak to him, Snape is on the warpath for revenge and Reggie has offered some cryptic and threatening warnings about summer at Grimmauld Place. But this has always been written in the stars, hasn't it? He's a Black after all, he should get used to living a life of darkness.This fic follows the events of Sirius' 'prank' on Snape and it's consequences on Sirius and the Marauders, as well as the following summer in Grimmauld Place.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 87
Kudos: 120





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! 
> 
> First of all I just want to make clear that I do not agree with or condone JKR's BULLSHIT transphobic views or hateful comments to anyone in the LGBTQ+ community, nor do I support any of the insensitive and judgmental stereotypes that she has included in her writing or irl. This is a space for love, so please leave if you intend to bring hate to this space :) 
> 
> Anyway - I hope you all enjoy this fic! I intend to add to it regularly but the route I'm taking does keep changing in my head, so I will update warnings and tags as I go through. If there are any TW I will post them at the start of each chapter.
> 
> A slight warning here for some violence, but nothing too graphic. A little angsty too but just some Sirius in his feels.

Pathetic. _Pathetic_. Walburga’s curt, snide whispers were on loop in his head, deafening and relentless. She was right all along, he thought to himself as he rounded the corner at breakneck speeds. Two fifth year Ravenclaw girls scowled at the boy tumbling around the corridors, but their faces softened, and lips curled into coy smiles when the saw it was the famous Sirius Black, the resident heartthrob of the Marauders. On a normal day, Sirius would have humored them, leant back against the marble arches and flicked his jet-black hair and flashed his trademark smile. He’d have them nervously giggling and self-consciously fluffing their hair in a matter of seconds. Today was not a normal day though. It was surely the worst day of Sirius Black’s life so far.

“Get out of the way!”, he screeched, forcing his way through their linked arms and book bags, parchment and quills scattering across the floor as he fled. He willed his legs to carry him faster, his calves were screaming at him, but his brain kept him going. He didn’t have time to think, between the frantic worry and memory of Walburga’s insults, he was being driven on animal instinct alone. Would changing into Padfoot get him to the Gryffindor tower quicker? He quickly shook this thought out of his head and pushed his legs even harder. He just ran.

………………………………………..

“But how Wormy, _how_? It’s not exactly small is it? How could you have misplaced your broom?” James sighed, exasperated at his friend’s hopelessness. He pulled the blankets back down over Peter’s bed and climbed up off of his knees after looking for the broomstick underneath his bed. No such luck. Knowing Peter, it would probably end up in the Giant Squid’s grasp before turning up somewhere as obvious as the dorm room.

  
“I don’t know,” Peter said, sounding close to tears, “I was walking back from the Quidditch fields with you and Sirius but fancied some sandwiches from the kitchens. I definitely had it when I left though…”. He trailed off deep in thought, and James let him. He laid down on his bed with his hands cupping the back of his head, fingers working down his neck, trying to knead out some of the knots from Quidditch practice earlier that morning. He played out strategies in his head for the upcoming game against Slytherin, in each scenario Gryffindor won. They had to, James concluded. It was non-negotiable.

He was pulled back to reality by heavy footfall coming up the stairs to their dorm room, and Sirius, bellowing his name like a banshee. James was up in an instant, rushing to meet Sirius halfway. He almost fell through the doorway, leaning heavily on it to catch his breath. James’ immediate hopes of Sirius just being excited to share a new prank idea with the other Marauders quick faded from his mind; something was very wrong indeed.

  
“Pads, what’s wrong,” James asked, his eyes wide with worry. He closed the small space between them with a few urgent strides, placing his hand on his brother’s shoulder. Peter had stopped searching for his broom too, watching the scene awkwardly and carefully from the back of the room.

……………………………………..

Sirius made it to the room, but his haste had vanished, and he was frozen rigid on the spot, mouth agape and head spinning. He looked around, eyes flitting from James to Peter. His mouth had gone dry and his hair was plastered to his face from the exertion of running from the other side of the castle. James’ hand rested heavily on his shoulder. It felt very much like it was taunting him. He was sure James would never want to look at him, let alone touch him ever again once he revealed what he had done.

He could no longer look his best friend in his eye and turned instead to his shoes. His heart was hammering in his chest, more than it had been when he was sprinting through the school like a lunatic. He had to spit it out, or it would be too late. ‘Why bother running all the way here if you’re not going to tell them you coward?’ Sirius cursed himself inwardly. He knew what was coming, and he knew he had to fix his mistake before it was too late. He shifted his gaze once more, this time looking his friend in the eyes. James, as loving and compassionate as ever, kept his grip firmly held on Sirius’ shoulder and gave him a small nod, his wide and thoughtful eyes never once wavering when meeting Sirius’ own.

  
“I’ve messed up Prongs. Really badly, and I don’t know how to fix it,” Sirius’ voice was but a whisper. “Oh god what have I done?” he cried, eyes burning.  
“Pads, mate come on, what is it? We can help,” James insisted, looking back at Peter for backup. Peter gave a small nod, but otherwise remained quiet. This seemed to satisfy James, who returned his attention to his quivering best friend. “Come on Pads, we’re the Marauders, we can sort this out whatever it is,” James assured him, punctuating this statement with a nervous laugh.  
“No,” Sirius shook his head, “I don’t think we can this time. I told him. Snape. He has been goading me all week, more than normal. It’s Reggie’s fault, he’s been talking shit about me, I know he has.” Sirius shifted on his feet, shuffling his weight around in some pathetic attempt to work up the nerve to say what he needs to say.

  
“You told him? Told him what, Sirius,” James voice was curious, but with an edge that Sirius couldn’t identify. ‘He knows,’ Sirius thought, ‘Best spit it out then’.  
“The Shack. I told Snape about the Shrieking Shack. I told him how to get in, how to hit the right part of the tree to stop him being hurt. I-I bet him that…” Sirius drifted off, looking at the floor once again, praying to any higher power that it would just swallow him up.  
“You bet him what, Sirius?!” James demanded. The ever-present warmth in James’ voice had gone; it was dripping with contempt and a coldness Sirius had never before heard from his best friend. His hands dropped into tight fists at his side, his head held high. James was only slightly taller than Sirius, but in this moment, Sirius felt like James towered over him and was glaring down at him with a stare so furious it would have stopped Dumbledore in his tracks. 

Afraid, frightened, but above all else ashamed, Sirius took a scrambled step backwards until his back hit the wall. Even Peter let out a small gasp at James’ outburst, though tried to hide it weakly with a pathetic attempt at a cough. Sirius was in no doubt that James knew exactly what he had dared Snape to do. He ran his fingers through his hair, willing his tears not to fall. He didn’t have any right to be crying, he did this to himself. He looked up and met the eyes of his boy he considered his brother. The boy who became his family. He had stared into his mother’s eyes and seen the exact same look many times. Disappointment. Anger. Hatred. He’d take this look a thousand more times from his cruel and demented mother, if it would just stop James from looking at him like this this one time.

  
“I bet him that he couldn’t get in, tonight. The full moon.” He spat this out with the utmost ease to Snivellus, but saying it again now felt like he was ripping his soul in two. James’ face seemed to pale and then immediately turn red with rage. He stayed motionless for a split second before shoving past Sirius with war-like determination. He flew down the stairs like a bat out of hell, taking the steps two at a time. Sirius looked up to see Peter stood rooted in the same spot he had been in the whole time. Peter couldn’t meet his eye. Sirius moved his attention to the staircase, which James had now completed and knew what he needed to do. He had to go with James and fix this mess he’d created in his juvenile bout of rage. He also needed to explain himself to his best friend.

  
“James – wait!” he screamed in desperation. He took the stairs as quickly has James has and reached the bottom to see James’ halfway across the common room already.  
“Prongs, please, you don’t und- “James had turned around immediately and crossed the distance between then in an impossible time, and had his fists balled up in Sirius’ shirt. With a resounding thud Sirius’ back met the common room wall. His head smacked the wall and his teeth chattered together with the force of the assault. He felt dazed but nothing hurt him quite like the look in James’ eyes; they burnt with anger. He was so close their noses could have been touching and James’ anger was punctuated by short bursts of hot breath blowing on a strand of hair that had been knocked into Sirius’ face following the blow. Sirius’ own breath was shallow and wheezy, his torso felt damaged by the harsh slam and felt tight as James’ strong grip held him pinned to the wall. 

Sirius dragged his eyes away from James’ to scan the common room. A quiet hush fell upon the room and the two boys were the center of attention. Lily had risen from her seat initially, the books that covered her lap had littered the floor surrounding her armchair. But she too was rooted in her place, eyes wide and fearful watching the events unfold in front of her. The stunned silence was broken by James.  
“You do NOT call me Prongs. You do not follow me,” he hissed in Sirius’ face. He held fast with his hands still wrapped in Sirius’ collar, his eye contact remaining steady. James finally tore his eyes away when Peter reached the bottom of the stairs panting. His eyes darted between Sirius and James but settled eventually on his feet.

  
“Wormy, get McGonagall, tell her everything. I’m going to Remus.” James ordered without blinking. He turned his head back to Sirius for a final time, glancing him up and down once with distain. He released Sirius’s shirt and Sirius felt himself drop an inch or so. He hadn’t realized he’d been standing on his tiptoes. James turned his back and stalked off without meeting the eyes of any of the silent bystanders, not even Lily. He had taken a few paces away from Sirius when a wave of bravery overcame Sirius. He pushed himself off the wall that he had been pinned to and started after his friend.

  
“No, I’m coming too. We’re the Maraude- “. Sirius didn’t have the chance to deliver his speech. James span on his heel and pulled his arm back. The punch collided with Sirius’ face without hesitation or apology. James’ strength was undeniable, and Sirius crumpled to the ground in an instant. The pain shot through his face and skull as he let his body hit the floor. He tried to curl his hands up around his head to protect it, but his body felt like it was made of lead. Everything sounded like it was underwater, but he had no doubt that he could hear the gasps of horror and screams of his peers punctuate the room. He attempted to lift his head, but it fell back down to the ground with a thud. He tried again, but this time he pushed his upper body up with his arms, his elbows resting beneath him to support him. He could see James towering above him, face red and eyes wild. He drew his arm back again to strike his friend and Sirius turned his head and curled his body to shield himself. He was used to assuming this position at Grimmauld Place, but he’d never had to resort to this at Hogwarts before. His eyes were shut tight, but the punch never came. 

Sirius braved a glace up to see what had slowed his assault. It was none other than Lily Evans. She’d placed herself between Sirius and James and stood over Sirius’ body, with one leg either side of his battered form. Her hands were outstretched towards James, but there was not a hint of fear on her face. But what she lacked; James had gained. His anger was gone, and his eyebrows were furrowed in fear and worry. His palms were outstretched in front of his chest in a sign of surrender. They fell back to his side, and his eyes searched Lily’s face for forgiveness. She seemed to grant it in a wordless exchange with James. He looked around sheepishly at the spectators of this conflict but quickly regained his resolve. He straightened up, shoulders back and head high as he turned and left through the Fat Lady’s portrait and hurried out of sight. He hadn’t given Sirius a second glance. 

The silence was still permeated the common room, the attention now falling to the heroin of Sirius Black; Lily Evans.  
“Well, don’t you all have things to be getting on with?” she demanded, folding her arms with an air of defiance. Sirius had never understood James infatuation with the quiet, goody-two-shoes Evans, but he got it now. She was fierce, loyal and kind. Damn. She turned to Sirius, still stood above him while he lay pitifully on the floor, arm still raised from where it had been covering his face. He felt Wormtail shuffle past them, muttering apologies and he dithered between running to McGonagall’s office as instructed by James or helping his injured friend. Sirius just nodded, which seemed to grant Peter the permission he was seeking to leave him and fulfil his end of the rescue mission. 

With trepidation, the chattering of the common room was beginning to return, artificially of course. Sirius forced himself up off the ground to a sitting position and allowed Lily to squat down next to him. After all, she had saved him from being properly battered. Sheepishly, he raised his eyes to meet hers. They were confused and shiny, but she was trying to shield this with a veil of indignation.  
“Honestly, will you lot ever stop making a scene wherever you go?” she joked humorlessly. She pulled out her wand from her robes and raised it to Sirius’ face.  
“No,” he pleaded, “Don’t heal it. It’s fine. Thanks for your help and all that, but I’ve got it from here.” Sirius said callously. He tried to play it off, channel that cool, careless persona he had been working on for so many years. It worked on most people, but not Evans. She had never bought into his bullshit. 

This time it seemed like she decided to play along though.  
“Right. Okay, well you can explain everything to me then. Either that or I’ll confront James when he’s back from whatever mission you’ve sent him on.” She stood up briskly, leaving no time for questions or rebuttals, and held out her hand for Sirius to grab onto. He took it reluctantly, Merlin how he hated being the victim. He drew himself up to his full height and fussed with smoothing down his clothes and fluffing up his hair. He drew a deep breath, forgetting that his chest was still sore from…well, from getting what he deserved, he supposed.  
“Lily, thanks. Honestly, thank you, I really mean it. But I can’t. Believe me, I’d love to talk to someone about it all right now but…just leave it yeah?” He pulled his lips into a tight smile and cast his eyes down. He turned away from her without looking up, he didn’t need to watch anyone else’s disappointment in him grow today. She didn’t call after him, but he kind of wished that she did. Doing his best to avoid any eye contact he limped back to the stairs leading up to the Marauders’ dorm room to lick his wounds and drink his way into oblivion.

………………………………………….

The first thing he did was rummage through his trunk to find the last bottle of fire whiskey that he had stashed for the end of term party in two weeks’ time, but he knew that whatever happened this evening that he would certainly not be attending any parties soon. He raised the bottle to his lips and heartily gulped one, two, three times and swallowed the burning liquid. The alcohol went some way to calm his shaking hands, but not the thoughts racing through his mind, so he took another gulp before making his way to the bathroom mirror to inspect the damage done to his face. 

He knew it was bad before he even got there, his vision was swimming and obscured in his left eye from the swelling. He was sure that he could feel a trickle of blood making its way down his cheek too, but he couldn’t be sure of that. He stood pensively at this sink, grasping the edge and leaning on it, trusting it to support his off-balanced weight. After standing there for a while he forced himself to look up. It was quite a sight at first, but he reminded himself that he deserved it. It wasn’t quite as bad as injuries he had in Grimmauld Place, and he took comfort in that. 

The blow from James’ fist had hit him squarely on his left cheek bone, cutting a deep gash into his face, just below his eye. Sirius raised a tentative hand off the sink, touching his wound gently. He hissed in pain as he made contact with the injury. By now his left eye was almost completely swollen shut, with a dark red, purply bruise blooming around the cut and up around his eye socket. His suspicions were right too, a long, scarlet dribble of blood was snaking its way down to his chin, which made the paleness of his complexion all the more pronounced. He looked defeated. He gazed into his own eyes, or rather eye, as the other was rapidly swelling. What had he done? To himself and to his dearest friends. He averted his gaze quickly, no longer being able to bear looking at himself. He turned the tap to run some cold water and cupped his hands beneath it. He bent down to splash it in his face, once again forgetting the soreness in his chest. He struggled on down to sink level though and washed away the blood and shame. Or so he wished.

“McGonagall is furious,” came Peter’s voice from the doorway. Despite his size, Peter could be quite the sneak when he wanted to be and had found his way back to the dorm without the causing slightest suspicion from the battered boy in the bathroom. The appearance of Wormtail shocked Sirius so much that his body jumped up in fright. His head shot up from the sink, connecting hard with the taps on the way up.  
“Ahh, Merlin!” Sirius groaned, rubbing the back of his head. He pulled his hand away to see it coated with blood, the appearance of which was only worsened by the water that drenched Sirius’ hands.

It was enough to make Peter groan himself and take a tentative step towards Sirius.  
“Can I help?” he offered nervously. Peter had never been the best at charms, and Sirius would rather that he didn’t attempt a healing spell on his head. That, plus he deserved the pain. It couldn’t absolve him of his crime, but he felt better for being hurt when he was causing so much pain himself. He shook his head at Peter, and Peter’s shoulders slumped in relief.  
“What did she say, what did you say?” Sirius asked desperately, grabbing a towel and sitting on the closed toilet seat. Peter resumed his place leaning on the door frame watching Sirius carefully as he grimaced, patting his face dry while avoiding his injured left side, then moving the towel to cradle the back of his head to stem the bleeding there. He pulled the towel away to investigate the damage done. There was a fair bit of blood, but nothing to severe; he’d had worse.

He looked from the towel to Peter expectantly, eyes wide with fear and worry. Peter sighed, never good with delivering news of worth or importance.  
“Hold that to your head Sirius, that’s a lot of blood,” he said, nodding to the towel. Sirius opened his mouth to bite back a sharp retort but stopped himself. This was not Peter’s fault; it was entirely his own. He closed his mouth and obliged to Peter’s request. He hoped that in doing this Peter would fill him in on the details he so desperately needed to know. 

Peter was like that, always sharing any pieces of juicy information or gossip he had with the Marauders to feel worthy. But this time, Peter didn’t. He kept his gaze on Sirius for another second longer, pulled his mouth into a tight frown and let his posture slump. He pushed off the doorframe and stood quietly in the doorway and seemed to be contemplating his next move. He gave up, pushing his hands into his pockets and blowing out a long held in breath.  
“I’m going to the common room, I’ll see you later I suppose,” Peter said in a forlorn, defeated kind of way. He looked Sirius up and down one more time, like he was examining him for the first time. Sirius let his eyes leave Peter’s and his head fall down between his shoulders, towel in hand still gripping the back of his head. He could feel it filling with blood, but he knew head wounds bled a lot.  
“Yeah. Yeah, okay Wormy,” Sirius whispered in a soft, hushed voice, scared that by speaking any louder he’d somehow make this evening even worse. Peter turned and scurried off immediately, his feet tip-tapping away from the bathroom until Sirius could no longer here them. 

Sirius looked up to where Peter was standing. From where he was sat on the toilet seat, Sirius had a clear view straight through the boys’ dorm to the window. He stood slowly, tentative on his feet, and sluggishly made his way to the window. He threw it open and sat on the windowsill, throwing his feet out and leaning against the frame. This is how he and Remus sat when they had a rare moment of uninterrupted peace in the dorm. 

With one hand still clasping his head and the other wrapped around the window frame for support, Sirius braved a glance up to the sky. It was pitch black, a few stars twinkling. Perhaps he could see his own star, if he looked close enough. But there was only one thing Sirius was looking at: the moon. Full and bright, it was undeniably beautiful, but tonight it could be deadly too. Because of him. Sirius leaned his beaten head against the window frame and prayed with everything he had that they’d be okay.

Remus, God, please let Remus be okay. He needed him back more than anything. He needed him to be okay. And James. If anything happened to James now, he would never forgive himself. Never. Even Snivellus needed to be okay. He’d be so happy to see that greasy toe rag again he might even give him a kiss. He begged the universe to make it so. He didn’t know what he would do if something bad happened because of this. But then, given the circumstances, something bad was sure to happen. And it was all his fault. It was just a waiting game now, to see what consequences were to come of Sirius’ thoughtless actions. His mother was right. She had always been right. He was a failure, a corruption, a parasite. He was pathetic.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter explains the events unfolding from Remus' point of view. Some descriptions of injuries in this chapter. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think in the comments :)

The look of absolute horror on Snape’s face would keep Remus going for quite some time. The cocky sod had such a smug look on his face as Slughorn went to announce the winner. Remus had been paired with Lily for this potions task, and thank Merlin for that. She was the only one in the class who could rival Snape’s proclivity for potion brewing but lacked all of his smarmy attitude about it.

The task was simple enough – brew a perfect batch of Veritaserum and earn yourself a ticket to the Slug Club’s end of year party. Remus’ stomach turned at the very thought of attending; he really couldn’t think of anything worse. The prize that he was competing for would be the look on Snape’s face when he lost. Lily and Remus had decided that if there was ever a time to knuckle down, this was it.

Lily was still pretty heartbroken over the loss of her childhood friend, so jumped at Remus’ suggestion to win the competition as a metaphorical middle finger to Snape. From start to finish the brewing process had taken almost a month, with Lily and Remus deciding that creating a timetable would be the fairest way to assign slots for all the intricate checks that needed to take place. However, most of the time the two ended up going together to check on the potion and had grown rather fond of each other’s company.

Remus loved the Marauders – that was as natural to him as breathing - but he found it really therapeutic talking to Lily. She was calm and relaxed, and actually cared about the things he said that the Marauders would roll their eyes at; homework, revision schedules and even the occasional winge about Peter’s inability to tidy up after himself. Lily would listen attentively and give genuine feedback and advice to Remus. She would giggle at his jokes and walk closely to his side, sometimes linking her arm through Remus’ own. And he liked it, she was his own little pocket of warmth. He would never tell James of course, but he didn’t like Lily in a romantic way. She was a true confidant, and he felt protective over her like a brother would over a sister.

That was one of the main reasons why he wanted to get back at Snape so much. He’d always been a greasy worm in Remus’ eyes, but Lily had always defended him, always stuck up for him when the Marauders would target him for their next pranks. But he had tossed her aside with a few snide, hateful remarks like she meant nothing to him. Like she had done nothing for him during their time at Hogwarts. It was clear that Snape regretted what he did, he tried to accost Lily with apologies more than once in the corridors and in the Great Hall, but it was too late. He’d lost the pureness of Lily’s friendship.

For the first few weeks following the incident, whenever Remus saw Lily, she had red-ringed eyes and a forced, stiff smile. That was less common now, but not gone completely. Snape had hurt Lily more than he would know, and Remus wanted to help Lily get back at him, even if only in a trivial way like beating smart-arse Snape in the potions competition.

So, when the final day of the Veritaserum brewing came around, Remus was hoping with everything he had that he and Lily would win. As Slughorn made his way around the room to examine the concoctions, Remus cast a glance over to Snape’s desk. He and Mulciber were paying no attention to Slughorn’s observations, they had assumed that they had nothing to worry about. Snape’s lips were curled up tightly at the corners to form an arrogant smile, the conceited attitude Snape wore shrouded him like a perfume. It made Remus want to gag. It also made want to laugh, because that self-righteous arse was about to be taken down a notch or two. Well, so he hoped. 

Slughorn approached Remus and Lily’s desk, and Lily quickly grabbed Remus’ hand with her own. She squeezed it tightly, her nerves seeping through the skin into Remus’ own body. He looked down to her small hand, grasping onto his own, and then glimpsed up to her face. She didn’t notice though, her warm, bright eyes were scrutinizing Slughorn’s face, searching for even the smallest of tells. He poked and prodded the potion in front of them and seemed satisfied with his inspection. He looked up from the brew and observed the two students stood in front of him. His eyes stared at them from beneath his bushy eyebrows, glinting mischievously. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and he simply uttered,

“Good job children,” before moving onto the next table.

“Oh my god!” Lily gasped breathlessly. She had been holding her breath the entire time, Remus now realized. He laughed softly at her nervousness and excitement, looking down at her smiling face. She was petite; small and slight. Her red hair was always shiny and had loose waves, and the freckles that were dotted over her nose and cheeks gave her a youthful charm. Remus really could understand James’ infatuation with Lily, she was very special indeed. Remus himself stood much taller, he towered over his friend. Up until a few months ago he had always been gangly and awkward, but now he was beginning to fill out a little, his arms and chest gaining light muscles and his legs getting tones and chiseled. He had begun to notice some attention from some…female peers. But his interest was not reciprocated quite as strongly.

Lily’s eyes shot up to Remus’. They were stood closely together, hand still linked. Lily had to crane her neck up to look at Remus’ face and he smiled affectionately back at Lily’s animated expression. Her smile wavered for a second. She cleared her throat and let her hand fall from Remus’, busying herself with tidying away loose pieces of parchment on the table. Remus kept his eye on her attentively, noticing a rosy pink blush spreading over Lily’s cheeks and nose, hidden mostly by her red hair falling into her face as she occupied herself with tidying.

“Oi, Evans,” Marlene McKinnon hissed ladishly from a few tables over. “Mary and me are joining Sirius this weekend at the Three Broomsticks. He reckons Madam Rosmerta fancies him and she’ll serve us firewhiskey if he bats his eyelashes hard enough! You gonna join?”

“Are you going too?” Lily asked Remus, tucking a strand of thick hair behind her ear.

“Yeah, our last weekend at Hogsmeade before the summer isn’t it?” Lily seemed to consider the proposal and turned back to Mary and Marlene.

“Go on then, but I’ll be sticking to the butterbeer though, if you don’t mind!” She folded her arms as if to finalise her statement. Remus couldn’t help but laugh at the seriousness on her face.

“Let loose for once Lily, you can have one day off from being perfect every now and then!” teased Mary.

“Well, I really wouldn’t get my hope up on the firewhiskey front if I were you girls.” Remus interrupted, “Sirius thinks everyone with a heartbeat fancies him. Madam Rosmerta is about as likely to serve him alcohol as McGonagall is.” Remus joked, rolling his eyes at thought of Sirius’ completely idiotic self-confidence.

Just as Marlene was about to argue, Slughorn finished his assessment of the potions. A hush fell over the room as soon as the professor raised his hands and Lily reverted to holding her breath. Remus could feel the nerves pulsating from his friend, so this time he was the one to take hold of her hand. He slipped his fingers through hers and gave her hand a small, hopefully comforting, squeeze. She turned to him with a determined smile now, let the breath that she had been holding in out and stood up tall. This was the Lily he knew and loved.

“Well, it has been quite a while since I saw this much talent in a single class,” Slughorn stated proudly. It sounded to Remus like he was complimenting himself rather than the students, but he didn’t care right then.

“In previous years, some of our best potions haven’t been as strong as the ones who came last this year! But there can only be one winner, as always…”

‘Now is NOT the time for a dramatic pause!’ Remus screamed internally. He heard Snape’s chair move oh so slightly as the conceited shit prepared to collect his prize.

“The winning pair this year is...Lily Evans and Remus Lupin!” Lily’s face split into the widest smile he had seen from her in a long time. Her eyes sparkled with joy and the spark was back. Remus’ heart leapt in his chest. Yes, he was delighted that he was in the winning duo, but he was happier still to see Lily so full of joy. But the icing on the cake was the look on Snivellus’ face.

Remus and Lily stood to collect their prize, and Remus turned deliberately to take in Snape’s face, in all its miserable glory. Snape’s mouth was open like a fish, his beady little eyes dazed and wide. His eyebrows were creased, giving his face a glorious look of confusion and outrage. Remus couldn’t help but let out a small snort of laughter before stifling it. Lily, however, didn’t give Snape the slightest satisfaction. She paid him no attention whatsoever, and turned instead to Mary and Marlene, who were whooping and cheering from their desk. She flashed them a dazzling and genuine smile, before making her way with Remus to Slughorn, who presented them with their ‘grand prize’ of Slug Club party tickets.

“I have never seen such perfection in a Veritaserus brew from students before!” Slughorn exclaimed, patting Remus slightly too hard on the back.

“Thank you, professor,” the two said in unison.

“You’ll be going on my shelf after this, that’s for sure! Off you go then you two, go and celebrate. The date, time and location for our party is all on the ticket – I’ll see you then! Class dismissed!”

Lily and Remus shared a glance at each other on the way back to their desk, giggling softly at their success. Only then did Lily dare to look at Snape. Remus saw her expression change; she had obviously caught the look of distain on Snape’s face, and the genuineness of her smile faded just a little. She snapped back from Snape to Remus.

“Well, we bloody did it didn’t we! I can’t believe it! Not that I exactly want to go to this party,” Lily chattered quickly.

“I can believe it – you’re the smartest girl in our year. That combined with our passion to get Snivellus back, well of course we weren’t going to fail!” Remus laughed, shoving his books away in his bag.

“Remus, I wish you wouldn’t call him that. I know he’s been a prat and all, but let’s just move on from him now. It’s revenge enough that we beat him…did you see his face?” Lily asked this nervously, as if she was worried that they had taken it too far somehow. Remus just scoffed.

“Yeah, I saw his face. Smug prat never saw it coming. He deserves to be taken down a peg or two, and who better to do it than us?” Remus said this lightly, trying to reassure Lily that it was okay to simply be better than someone is class. But she didn’t look convinced and chewed at her lip while she packed away her books.

“Hey, Evans,” Remus said softly, using his hand to softly cup her chin and raise her face from her bag so that she would look at him. “It really is okay you know. All we did was work hard and win a competition. We didn’t hex him or jinx him or even call him stupid names. If he’s going to be angry at someone for being more intelligent than him…well he’s going to be angry his whole life, the stupid prick,” Remus hadn’t meant to say the last part for Lily’s sake, but she snorted with laughter as soon as he’d said it. Her giggling was contagious and the two of them were in a fit of laughter for what seemed like forever. Lily wiped the tears from her face, trying to compose herself. Just as she had managed to, Snape stalked past the two of them with a face like a smacked arse, and the pair erupted into laughter once more, earning a disgruntled, mumbled string of insults from the petulant Slytherin.

The two left the classroom chatting happily, making their way back to the Gryffindor Tower. Potions had been the last lesson of the day and Remus had to head to Madam Pomfrey’s office to prepare for the full moon. But he decided he would walk Lily back to the common room first, and then make his way to the hospital wing. Once they had arrived, Lily was deep into a rant about her dread of seeing her sister over the summer holidays, and Remus felt it would be rude to interrupt her. He stopped at the Fat Lady’s portrait and said nothing, leaning against the wall to let Lily finish her ramblings. When eventually she did, she seemed to realise that they hadn’t said the password and looked at Remus curiously.

“Well, I am needed elsewhere, but I didn’t want to stop you from…well from getting all of that crazy out of your system,” Remus laughed, gesturing up and down with is hand. Lily feigned insult and slapped him playfully on his arm, chuckling and looking up at him softly.

“Thanks. Thanks for listening. It’s nice to have someone to talk to about all of this. The girls are brilliant, but their families all love that they are witches. Only Petunia seems to be disapproving of all of this,” she gestured to the castle; the moving staircase, the animated portraits, the ghouls and ghosts flying past. It all seemed so normal to them now, it seemed bizarre that anyone could not be captivated by the beauty of magic and the wizarding world. 

“Yeah, I know what you mean. You listen to me too and I really do appreciate it. Thanks, Lils. Now, go and celebrate beating that creep Snape with your lot, you did bloody good!” Lily bid Remus goodbye with a strange look of fondness that was new to him. He couldn’t quite place it, but he would have to figure it out later. He was already late for Madam Pomfrey and he couldn’t keep the kind witch in the lurch any longer. He was so overjoyed with the results from the potions competition that he felt like he was walking on air when making his was to the hospital wing. He hadn’t felt this good for a long time. He supposed it was because he had satisfied his own cruel intentions by beating Snivellus, but he had also helped Lily get one over on the weasel. And she deserved some type of revenge on him for what he had said to her.

As he floated through the corridors, he caught a glimpse of Snape skulking around. He looked miserable, but there was a strange glint in his eye. He was up to something, Remus could tell. He was probably pissed from losing and would end up casting a stupid jinx on some innocent first years. 

‘I should go after him,’ Remus thought. He altered his course to follow Snape but stopped dead in his tracks.

“Remus Lupin! I have been worried sick!” Madam Pomfrey rounded the corner and marched up to him with a determination in her eyes. “Where have you been?” she demanded.

Remus drew his eyes away from Snape and settled them on the nurse instead. His shoulders slumped and head dipped between his shoulders as his witnessed the genuine worry on her face. He felt very guilty at once, and knew he had been decidedly inconsiderate, especially given how much Madam Pomfrey did for him. She was the closest thing he had to a Mum at Hogwarts. Hell, he even thought that when he talked about her at home in the holidays that his own Mother cut the conversations short on purpose. He was sure she had a pang of jealousy every time Remus mentioned the kindness of his carer.

“Shit. Madam Pomfrey I am so sorry! I had t-“

“Language, Mr Lupin! Hush, I don’t care for excuses, let’s go,” Madam Pomfrey ushered Remus towards hospital wing to administer the potions before the night fell. Remus was certain that they did nothing to help, but he took them if only to humor the nurse, and to make her feel like she was doing something to help. Remus knew he had been forgiven by the nurse, but still felt like he owed her an apology of some kind. He made a mental note to bring her a chocolate frog after the transformation. Chocolate made everything better.

Remus and Madam Pomfrey made their way to the Shrieking Shack together chatting about their days. He told her about winning the potions competition, suddenly awkward about it and feeling embarrassed to tell her.

“Oh, Remus dear that’s fantastic! Not that I’m surprised, you’ve always been a smart boy. You’re really going to make something of yourself, you wait and see!” Madam Pomfrey’s proclamation did nothing to quell Remus’ awkwardness, if anything it worsened it. He felt a blush creep across his face and in his ears were red hot. He allowed his hair to fall into his face to hide is bashfulness as best he could.

“Um thanks...but I’m not sure what opportunities I’ll have after school really. I’m not exactly an ideal candidate for…well, for any job.” He reached up and scratched the back of his neck, trying to hide his face further from Madam Pomfrey’s gaze.

“Now you listen here, you are just as able as anyone else in this school young man. Don’t let your lycanthropy make you think otherwise. Goodness, I’ve just told you how smart you are, don’t make me rethink that statement!” She teased, nudging Remus in the ribs with her elbow to make sure he knew that she was joking. Remus allowed his hand to fall back to his side and breathed out a small laugh at the nurse’s attempt to lighten the mood. It had worked too, to some extent.

……………………………………….

Madam Pomfrey had settled Remus into the shack and kissed him on the cheek. This had been a ritual that she had started in his first transformation. The small eleven-year-old Remus stood alone in the shack trembling; it was his first full moon without his parents waiting outside the door for him. He was terrified and close to tears. Madam Pomfrey looked like she was going to cry too and bent down to plant a motherly kiss on the boy’s cheek. It calmed him then, but now when he looks back on that memory, he isn’t sure if it was for him or for her. They were both as nervous as each other. This tradition had continued, and Remus took comfort in it. She left the shack with the same air of concern that she had had that very first night. It never got any easier for her to leave Remus alone. He knew she would stay, if there had been any possible way for that to be safe. He wished that he could tell her about the Marauders, and how much they quelled the difficulties of the transformation, just to calm her nerves a bit. He wished he could, but he couldn’t. 

He heard her mutter the incantations in the secret passageway to ensure Remus didn’t escape through the Whomping Willow. Remus felt a pang of guilt in his chest; she worked so hard to keep him and the other students safe. Her magical boundaries were impenetrable and demonstrated what a powerful witch she truly was. Remus had never, and would never, escape through that blockade. He didn’t need to. When the Marauders first came to the shack as animagi they instantly identified a way out. Three loose panels in the wall of the Shrieking Shack were loose, and with some wriggling and clever manipulation, all four of the animals could creep out of the back and sneak off into the Forbidden Forest.

He sat down patiently on the floor of the shack, leaning into the damp walls and waited patiently for the rest of the Marauders to arrive. Their plans for tonight were racing through Remus’ head. Near to dawn last month, they had found a small opening in the forest. There was a small body of water there, too big to be a pond but too small for a lake. At the far side there was a gushing waterfall, glistening under the moonlight. It was deserted, but they knew they didn’t have time to explore properly before the sun rose. All month they had discussed getting back there tonight. They’d run and swim and play in reckless abandon until the dawn arrived.

The shadows in the shack were lengthening and Remus began tapping his foot impatiently. Where were they? He pushed himself off the ground and started pacing the shack irritably. They were never late, they never wanted to chance anything going wrong. It was one of the only times that James actually meticulously organised himself and ordered around the others. James seemed a lot like Fleamont when he did this, and it couldn’t help but make Remus laugh. The playful, charismatic James Potter turned auror commander was enough to make anyone giggle in disbelief. Remus tried to settle himself down and concluded that they must not be coming for some reason. It would have been nothing, he thought to himself. Maybe they just needed to catch up with homework, or maybe Lily had allowed James to strike up a conversation with her because of her good mood. Surely that would be enough for him to forget his animagus duties.

As Remus thought of all the possibilities, he heard the Whomping Willow slow, its branches stopped swinging wildly. It was so close to the full moon now all of Remus’ senses were heightened. He could probably hear the secret conversations in Dumbledore in his office, if he tried hard enough. Remus let out a sigh of relief as the footsteps continued briskly down the passageway to the Shrieking Shack. He relaxed and pulled his t-shirt over his head in preparation for the change. It would be any second now, he was sure. He could feel it in his bones. It was like pins and needles to start with, like his body was giving him a courtesy by warning him that the change was imminent. Bloody hell, the boys had left it close this time. Suddenly, Remus froze. Why were the Marauders using the tunnel? Yes, they normally did, but they followed Remus and Madam Pomfrey under the invisibility cloak so they wouldn’t get locked out by the protection spells Madam Pomfrey put up. If they ever missed them, they never risked coming through the tunnel and came in through the loose panel. Something wasn’t right. Remus took a step closer to the door and tried to catch their scent, to see if anything was wrong.

There was something very wrong indeed. Remus’ veins filled with ice. No. No, surely not. The scent…it was off. It wasn’t Sirius or James or Peter. It was…

Remus’ body erupted in pain, his back curled so viciously it surely should have snapped in two. He fought the change for the first time in years, he needed to stop. If his nose was right, he was about to be caught. 

By Snape. 

Remus willed his body to stop, just for a minute, to convince Snape of his innocence. The wolf fought back harder. His skull warped and creaked and split. The claws and teeth tore through his skin and gums, coating the floor of the shack with a few drops of his blood.

‘Please,’ Remus begged, ‘Please, no.’ He held on to his human mind for longer than he normally did, trying to stop the animalistic instincts that were surging through his brain. A scream tore its way from Remus. The pain of a normal transformation was bad enough, but the fight of oppressing the wolf was torturous. His head was split in agony, his breath was hot and ragged; he tried desperately to suck air into his burning lungs. Tears streamed down his face and his teeth were bared and grit together to hold back his screams of unfathomable suffering. He hated Snape, God knows he does, but right now he cared about Snape’s safety more than anything in the world. He was trying, trying so hard to keep the wolf at bay. But he was failing. Any minute now, there would not be a trace of humanity left in his thoughts; it would be all wolf.

His head snapped up; his nose caught something else. Prongs! Prongs was coming! The stench of James’ fear was overwhelming, and the wolf lapped it up. The last of Remus’ humanity was oppressed by the wolf, and a scream was ripped from Remus’ throat to confirm the finality of the change.

………………………………….

The wolf crouched low to the ground, its breathing ragged, but calming further by the second. For the first time in forever, it felt like it had the chance to succeed in gaining a pack member. A real pack member. It could smell the human bodies coming closer, one nervous, but the other terrified. The wolf drew itself up and raised its head in a regal manner. Its beauty was undeniable. The sleek, silver coat covered its body in thick waves of majestic fur, and it stood proudly in its own skin (despite how Remus would feel about it when fully human again). The wolf padded forward on its strong legs, ready for the hunt. It broke into a determined sprint towards the sound and smell of its prey and ran, like its life depended on it.

It followed the tunnel and stopped dead in its tracks. The scent was overwhelming. 

Humans and fear and magic. The perfect combination. 

The wolf stayed rooted where it was as loud shouts echoed through the tunnel. It had been quiet before, but the passageway was now full of rage and anger. Suddenly, he saw them. The two humans rounded the corner, almost at each other’s throats. A low growl escaped the wolfs jaws, its lips were pulled back in a wide snarl, teeth bared. The humans were rendered motionless at the sight of the wolf, shocked into silence and paralysed by fear. Their eyes were wide, like the rabbits the wolf normally hunted; their expressions were pathetic to the wolf. 

All that was left for it to do was to sink its teeth into them. It sprang forward, powerful back legs shot it forward in an instant. The wolf was mid-air when it collided with Madam Pomfrey’s magical barrier. It was like an invisible forcefield and the wolf slammed into it, a yelp of pain escaped its mouth. Purple sparks exploded from the protection charm, falling around the wooden passageway like the dregs of fireworks. The wolf’s body hit the ground with a frightening crunch; the magic was powerful, and the wolf felt its full force. Blistering pain shot up and down its hind leg and the wolf shook its head to alleviate the fog swimming behind its eyes.

Hunt. Pack. Prey.

The instinctive, animalistic thoughts returned vehemently and woke the wolf from its stupor. It leapt forward again; this time ready to fight the defenses in place. It hit the wall once more, and squealed in pain, but fought through it. The purple from the magic lit up the room, and when the wolf caught sight of the humans it hunted, they too were illuminated in the soft lilac hue. Their faces were the epitome of terror, mouths agog with fear and panic, their eyes wide and unblinking. The wolf tore at the barrier between them ferociously with its teeth and front paws, and felt the claws being torn from its pads. The magic was winning; the wolfs snout was bloody and torn up, but its lips were still drawn back, and teeth still tore at the barrier. The sparks were connecting with the wooden walls of the tunnel, sending pieces of shrapnel flying through the air. One of the boys winced and clasped at its neck; the wolf smelt blood. It spurred the wolf on and it threw its body again at the magic, willing it to let the wolf fulfil its desires, just this once.

Still engulfed in the war against the protective spell, the wolf saw the life come back to one of the boy’s eyes. It seemed to wake up. It grabbed the shirt of the other boy and pulled with all its might. This seemed to wake up the other boy too, and they ran, as fast as their pitiful legs could take them back down the passageway, away from the wolf. It stopped its attack, and limped away from the magic, defeated. A howl tore its way from the wolf, a howl of misery and despair. It knew it was injured. But it was angry. Angrier than it had ever been before. It paced around the shack it was confined to, tearing at the walls, at itself, at anything it could find.

Hours went by and the wolf’s throat was raw from howling, it’s body a bloody mess and the shack in disrepair. The wolf felt the tingling sensation begin in its bones, the warning that it was being suppressed for another month. It felt a desperation to stay as a wolf that it had never felt before. It clawed at its body, trying to make the change stop. It tried to scrape the magic from its skin, its fur and its bones. It was no use. The wolf was gone, and all that was left was a battered little boy.

………………………………………..

Remus woke with a start, engulfed immediately in pain. He couldn’t open his eyes; he couldn’t move a muscle. He felt his body slick with blood, sticky and hot in some places but hard and drying in others. Despite the warmth of the morning, Remus shivered in the shack, a chill sweeping through his body that would not leave. His hair was stuck to his face, due to sweat or blood he did not know. His fingers throbbed and face felt tight and swollen. Pain shot up one of his legs like a lightening bolt, a wave of nausea washed over him in response to the pain. In short, he was in agony. 

He gathered all the strength he had and forced his eyes open. They couldn’t open much, due to his injuries he guessed. What he saw stopped his heart for a second. The shack was a mess. There were claw marks covering entire space, holes had been torn in the wooden walls, clearly made by the wolf’s sharp teeth and claws. But worst of all was the blood. It was everywhere.

‘Oh God,’ he thought. ‘Did I kill someone?!’ He panicked; his breath came in short bursts of frantic worry until he couldn’t catch it at all. He was having a heart attack, he knew it. This was it? This was how Remus Lupin died? Cold and alone on the bloodied floor of the Shrieking Shack?

‘Fitting,’ he thought to himself grimly. In that moment, he was certain that this was the end for him. He was so wrapped up in his own ‘death’ that he didn’t hear Madam Pomfrey come it. He didn’t hear her gasp, or witness the tears that sprang into her eyes. All he knew was Madam Pomfrey was there, knelt down in front of him, knees in the sticky blood that coated the dirty floor.

“Breath Remus, breath. You’re okay, you’re having a panic attack,” she said calmly, as if they were chatting about the weather. She took his hands in her own and looked steadily into his terrified eyes.

“Breath with me, in…out. That’s it my boy, that’s it. You’re doing great,” her voice was soothing, and he felt his tense body start to relax. It only was then that Madam Pomfrey dared to examine the rest of Remus’ injuries.

He was covered in wounds from head to toe. Almost all of his fingernails and toenails been ripped out. He had burns on his palms, presumably due to the protection spell. His leg was twisted brutally in an odd angle and bruises blossomed up the side of it. His body and limbs were littered with grazes and deep lacerations from his own claws. But the worst was his face. A deep slash had been carved into his chiseled face, snaking from just under his right eye, across his nose and stopping only when it had reached the middle of his left cheek. His eyes were almost swollen shut from bruising, and he had a further three tears across his throat. Remus was a mess, and he knew it.

“Madam Pomfrey, what happened?” he managed to whisper in desperation. “Who did I hurt, someone was here, please, I can’t g- “

“Shh love, no one is hurt, apart from you. You’ve done brilliantly. Now please Remus, don’t strain yourself. Your injuries and bad and –“ Madam Pomfrey needed a second to compose herself. Remus had never seen her like this. She was normally so stoic and prepared. She cleared her throat to defy her emotions. “We need to get you to the hospital wing, okay love?” She conjured the stretcher beneath Remus and levitated the stretcher up high next to her so she could hold his hand as they made their way back to the castle. Before they had left the tunnel, Remus had fallen into a fitful sleep on the stretcher and dreamt of blood and screams and howls. Madam Pomfrey didn’t let go of his hand though, but she quickened her pace and stormed to the castle with a fiery resolve.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're all enjoying the story so far. The is the final retelling of this scene, told this time from James' perspective. Some TWs here for violence and gore, but again, nothing overly graphic.
> 
> Thanks for reading guys :)

‘Well, if Sirius covered Marlene then she would be free to…no. No need to change a system that is working,’ James thought to himself. Despite his butterflies that flooded his stomach every time he thought about the last quidditch match of the year, it seemed to be the only thought that was ever running through his head. Well, that and Lily Evans of course.

Comfortably spread out on his bed, he let his thoughts shift to the redhead as he massaged the knots from his neck.

‘Maybe she would massage my neck, if I asked her nicely enough,’ James pondered. He genuinely considered it. She was kind and thoughtful and caring and…and immune to his charms so it seemed.  
‘No, best not,’ he decided. He needed to work up to that maybe. He snapped out of his daydream by the sounds of heavy footsteps climbing the stairs to their dorm room.

“James! JAMES!” The urgency in Sirius’ voice had James up and across the room in no time, meeting his best friend at the door. He hoped Sirius was simply ecstatic about a new prank idea; they did have two weeks left of term to orchestrate something spectacular. Sirius collapsed against the doorframe and tried to catch his breath, his expression panicked and nervous. Whatever his friend needed to share with him must be important, and the hopes of prank plans flew from James’ mind in an instant.

“Pads, what’s wrong,” James probed his best friend. He made his way closer to Sirius and grabbed his friend’s shoulder to show support. The boys had been inseparable since their first meeting on the Hogwarts’ Express all those years ago. They felt like they had found the missing pieces in their lives. James was an only child and longed for a brother to tease and plot devious plans with. And although Sirius had his own brother, that relationship was…strained at best. James and Sirius simultaneously brought out the best and worst in each other, but their love for each other was fierce and loyal.

This being said, James could normally tell what Sirius was thinking from just once glance at his face. Sirius was the master of masking his true emotions, after years of practice in Grimmauld Place, but James could pick up on the smallest of tells to figure out what was going on inside his friend’s head. Right now, Sirius was displaying emotions that James hadn’t seen from the boy before. Sirius’ eyes were clamped on his own, but they swam. Was he…was he about to cry? Before James had a chance to say anything, Sirius’ gaze left his face. He seemed to be fascinated with his shoes all of a sudden. Why couldn’t his best friend meet his eyes? What had he done?

James waited patiently, knowing that his friend needed to take this at his own pace. Whatever it was, he was struggling with it. Sirius eventually seemed to gather his resolve and pulled his eyes back to James. He was relieved. He tried to reassure his brother with a few small gestures. He kept his eyes on Sirius’ and smiled reassuringly. He gave Sirius’ shoulder a small squeeze to confirm their comradery.

“I’ve messed up Prongs. Really badly, and I don’t know how to fix it,” Sirius forced out in a meager, trembling whisper. “Oh god what have I done?”, Sirius cursed himself, the tears in his eyes were threatening to fall over his lids. James was desperate, he didn’t know how to help if his friend didn’t open up. He tried reasoning with him.  
“Pads, mate come on, what is it? We can help,” James gathered as much enthusiasm as he could and pushed out this statement, turning back to Peter to see if he had anything to add. He was met with a simple nod of Wormtail’s head and rolled his eyes internally. Surely Peter could come up with something to say? He didn’t waste any time on Peter and turned back to the shrinking Sirius in front of him.  
“Come on Pads, we’re the Marauders, we can sort this out whatever it is,” he forced a laugh which he hoped had convinced his friend. He hadn’t convinced himself, so he didn’t hold out much hope there.

“No, I don’t think we can this time. I told him. Snape. He has been goading me all week, more than normal. It’s Reggie’s fault, he’s been talking shit about me, I know he has.” Sirius stuttered and shuffled on his feet, but James had frozen. He was trying to work out what Sirius was saying. He thought he knew but…no. Sirius wouldn’t do that, would he? Looking at the state that his friend was in in front of him right now, he wasn’t so sure.  
“You told him? You told him what Sirius?” The confusion in James voice would have been laughable in any other situation. He was completely confounded; the disbelief that slipped into his voice was pitiful.

“The shack. I told Snape about the Shrieking Shack. I told him how to get in, how to hit the right part of the tree to stop him being hurt. I-I bet him that…” Sirius trailed off and stared at the floor again. James couldn’t take it; his mind was racing with all the possibilities that could happen tonight. His best friend was not this stupid, not this cruel. But it seemed that perhaps he was. James needed to sort this out, and Sirius’ inability to tell what he needed to fix was sending anger coursing through his veins.

“You bet him what, Sirius?!” The voice that came out of his mouth wasn’t his own and it scared him a little. It was cold and sharp and commanding, but the anger seeping its way through his body needed answers now. He needed to figure out what to do. Quite suddenly, he had changed. The atmosphere in the room changed. But then, he supposed, their relationship had been changed. He drew his hand away from Sirius’ shoulder like it had been burned and dropped his hands to his side. He curled them into tight fists and willed himself not to do anything that he would regret later. Sirius really did look like he was about to burst into uncontrollable sobs, but James didn’t have time to pity his friend.

“I bet him that he couldn’t get in, tonight. The full moon.”

James’ heart stopped. His breath caught in his throat. His stomach dropped. All the possible scenarios that could happen this evening flew through his head in an instant. He saw Snape, carved open like a gutted fish. He saw Lily paling as she heard the news about her childhood friend being killed in a terrible, tragic accident. But worst of all he saw Remus uncontrollably sobbing, screaming “what have I done, what have I done?” Remus would never forgive himself, but none of the blame would be his own. This was Sirius’ fault. James had to stop this. He drew himself up to his full height with steely determination and set off. He shoved Sirius out of his way, without looking at him and without uttering a word. Sirius was the least of his concerns right now.

He was halfway across the common room when he heard him. It was the last straw. Prongs? Who did he think he was calling him Prongs?! He saw red and he couldn’t help himself. James turned himself around and was face to face with Sirius. He grabbed him by the collar and threw him backward. The grip he had on Sirius’ shirt was strong and he knew he should loosen in, but his rage did not allow it. Sirius’ back collided with the wall of the common room, a deep thud reverberating in his chest. His head has been thrust back too due to the force of James’ aggression. It cracked against the wall and Sirius blinked back the tears. Fear flooded his friends eyes, but James was too angry to care. Sirius stood in front of him as a scared little boy, quivering in fright. 

An earie stillness had fallen over the common room and he knew it. He kept his voice to a curt hiss, otherwise he knew it would come out as a roar.

“You do NOT call me Prongs. You do not follow me.” His balled up fists were pushing hard into Sirius’ chest and he had lifted the boy so that they were at eye level. They stayed like that for a few seconds while James bored a hole in Sirius with his angry glare. Sirius didn’t look away this time, and James saw the hopelessness and utter sadness in his friend’s eyes. Just as it was becoming too much for James to bear, Peter made it down the stairs and served as a useful way out of this stalemate.

“Wormy, get McGonagall, tell her everything. I’m going to Remus.” He turned back to Sirius for the last time and looked him up and down. He noticed the way he was clinging to James’ hands to stop him from falling and the way that he was stood on his tiptoes, keeping him balanced. James felt a pang of remorse, but it was quickly replaced with anger as the vision of Remus reappeared, broken because of what Sirius did. He let him go, knowing that his actions would leave a physical toll on his friend. Sirius fell an inch or so, back to his feet. James skulked quickly away, almost at the door when he heard it.

“No, I’m coming too. We’re Maraude-“. James lost it. His wrath was indescribable, he had never felt anything like it before. He grit his teeth and furrowed his eyebrows and swung his body around as hard as he could. His balled-up fist collided with Sirius’ face. Hard. He fell to the ground, gasps and screams echoed around the room. He couldn’t bring himself to feel bad though. He looked down at his friend. He wanted to feel bad, he really did. He wanted to feel ashamed, but he didn’t. His chest was tight and his heart felt like it was twice the size that it normally was. Was this…was this betrayal?

‘Yes,’ James thought. ‘This is betrayal.’ Sirius raised himself up off the floor slightly and looked at his friend, terrified. Blood was seeping from a gash on his cheekbone and a bruise was already forming around it. It looked like it hurt, and James hoped it did. Sirius looked…pathetic. With that James drew his arm back again, readying his bloody knuckles for a second strike. Sirius’ eyes widened and he turned his head away from James, shutting his eyes tightly and raising his arms to protect his head.

Before he delivered the blow though, someone blocked him. They stood tall and proud and unwavering over Sirius’ cowering form. 

It was Lily bloody Evans. 

‘Shit,’ James thought, lowering his hand instantly, holding both hands up outstretched in front of his chest to surrender. And there it was, the shame. It hit him like a ton of bricks. He looked at the beautiful girl stood before him and silently pleaded for forgiveness. Her eyes seemed to soften, so he took this as his permission to go. He scratched the back of his head, disturbing his wild mane of messy hair further. He couldn’t look at Sirius though, he was so upset. He was too distraught by his friends actions he couldn’t bear to look at him. James knew he would be sorry for hitting him later, but not yet. He needed to make sure everyone was safe, and then he could think about his remorse, about Sirius’ betrayal.

He turned away from the stares of his Gryffindor peers and ran, as fast as he could. He was out of the doorway and racing through the corridors in an instant. ‘Please, please don’t let me be too late,’ he begged.

…………………………………………

With his heart thumping in his chest, James made it to the grounds of the castle. He had reached the peak of the hill that gave you the best vantage point in the school. You could see the Forbidden Forest, the lake and even the gamekeeper’s cottage. But James’ eye was only on one thing: the Whomping Willow. It was about 100 meters away, down the hill. James desperately searched for Snape, but the sun was gone and the darkness was creeping in making it hard for him to see. The fierce wind snapped at his face and whipped his hair in front of his eyes. Cursing, James ran forward making his way towards the tree.

That was when he saw him. Snape was there at the tree already. He was creeping forward, looking like he was gathering up the courage to run between the branches to reach the knot in the tree. ‘Thank Merlin,’ James cried internally. He hadn’t entered yet, but James had to make sure it stayed this way. He cupped his hands around his mouth and screamed with all his might.

“Snape! Snape wait, please!” James pleaded, continuing to move frantically towards the tree. The wind whistled past his face, and he knew it was carrying his voice away from Snape.

“Shit,” he cursed, and tried again. “Snape! STOP!” This time the sound of James’ voice reached Snape’s ears and he turned scowling at the Gryffindor. James continued to make his way to Snape, continuing to beg and plead. This uncharacteristic surge of worry seemed to encourage Snape. His scowl turned into a cruel grin and he gathered his courage. He turned away from James and ran, head ducked, towards the knot in the tree.

“NO!” James cried, but it was too late. Snape had made it and slipped through the entrance and into the tunnel. James legged it, desperate to close the distance between him and the tree, to get to Snape before it was too late. But it was too far, and he was too slow. The Whomping Willow resumed its usual protective swiping, branches flying every which way, mercilessly. James didn’t slow for a second.

Reckless, his mother had called him before, but he preferred the term brave. The image of his tutting mother flitted through his head in that moment, rolling her eyes at her mud-soaked boy, teasing him affectionately. What she’d do if she saw him now. He shuddered and forced this thought aside and fought his way through the branches snapping at him.

Suddenly, pain erupted in his back. A strong branch had caught him and smacked him down to the ground. He felt a decidedly final snap; a rib, he thought. As he met the ground his chin smacked the damp earth beneath him and got him seeing stars. He was winded and in pain, but he forced himself out of the daze and proceeded to stay low and crawl his was to the entrance. He made it, and tumbled down the steps into the dark, narrow passageway.

He pulled himself up and swept the hair out of his eyes. He wrapped an arm, around his side where the Whomping Willow had struck him and winced.  
‘No time for a pity party,’ he thought, and pushed on through the pain. He allowed himself to pick up the pace to a jog, not being in a fit enough state to go any faster.

He knew Madam Pomfrey erected magical barriers every month within the tunnel, but he had never seen it tested before. He was terrified, utterly and completely terrified. His heart fluttered in his chest and his breathing was ragged and uncontrollable. He turned the next corner and his heart stopped; there he was.

Snape, the wretched fool was holding his lit wand up high, scanning the tunnel for anything out of the ordinary. It seems that Sirius didn’t tell Snape what he would find down here.  
“Snape,” James croaked. Snape’s head shot up and he turned his wand to face James. He held his hands up to surrender for the second time that night. “Listen mate, we have to go, it isn’t safe down here,” he begged, hoping just this once Snape would listen to reason.   
“Ha,” he spat, “Clearly I’ve hit a nerve by coming down here haven’t I Potter?” Snape said, with a hint of victory in his tone.  
“I’m serious. Look, we’ll call this whole thing quits between us okay? Me and the others, we’ll stop bothering you. We’ll let you get on in peace and we won’t even retaliate if you and the other Slytherins want to keep hexing us. You just need to trust me on this one thing. We need to get out of here. Now.” James spoke like a professor or a ministry official. His voice was steady, commanding and fair. It seemed to work, as Snape wavered for a second, his wand dropping slightly. James’ shoulders relaxed a little, until Snape seemed to reconsider.

“You think it’ll be that easy, do you? You think I’m going to let whatever you’ve got hidden down here slide? Clearly, it’s important to you, else you wouldn’t be here. It got you by the balls here, Potter.” Snape laughed cruelly and looked James dead in the eye, as if challenging him.  
“Snape I-“James was cut off by chilling sound. The wolf howled. The moon had risen. Snape’s eyes widened in horror, spinning back and forth between the direction from which the howl came, and James.

“What the hell was that?!” he demanded; his face contorted with disbelief. Before James could say anything, the question was answered by the very source of the sound. The wolf came padding around the corner, ready for the hunt. It stood so close, maybe only ten meters away from the two boys. It licked its lips, readying itself for its kill. James could have sworn it had flicked its lips up into a smile.

Before the boys had chance to release their held in breaths, the wolf lunged. It sprang towards them, teeth bared, and claws extended. Snape screamed and instinctively ducked, cowering weakly away from the wolf with raised arms. Like that would do any good. James however, had different instincts to Snape. He leapt forward in sync with the wolf, trying to reach Snape. He ran to his rival, covering his body with his own like a shield. Just as he did so, the wolf collided with an invisible force.

‘The protection barrier!’ he thought, ‘Of course!’ Purple sparks flew through the room, causing damage to the tunnel, but its strength didn’t waver. The wolf continued to tear at it until it become bloodied and battered.

‘Remus, oh god,’ James thought. How could he help? It was agony to watch the wolf rip itself apart, but for some reason he couldn’t take his eyes off it. The sparks continued to fly as the wolf attacked the magic. Shards of wood were flying from the walls, one slicing into James, just above his collar bone. He screamed in pain, hands flying to the wound to stem the pain and the bleeding. James ripped out the shrapnel out without thinking about it. He held his hand over the wound, deciding that it wasn’t too deep. 

But the wound served a purpose; it woke him up. James tore his eyes away from the wolf painfully and turned to Snape. The boy was staring, mouth open and eyes wide. He didn’t see James, only the wolf. James grabbed him by the jumper and tugged. Hard.

“Come on!” he screamed, dragging Snape with him. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to hear him over the roar of the magic and snarls of the wolf, but Snape didn’t need to be told twice. He too snapped out of his trance and ran, faster than James had ever seen before. If the situation was different, James and the Marauders would be doubled over in laughter at the greasy boy. But nothing about this was funny.

They made it to the exit of the tunnel and Snape clambered out without looking back for James, smacking the knot of the tree to stop the assault of the Whomping Willow. James followed suit, crawling out slower than Snape due to his worried attempts at stemming his bleeding. He pulled his had away from his shoulder and inspected the blood. He’d never really been too injury prone before, so the amount of blood startled him. He was sure that Sirius or Remus would laugh and him and tell him it was only a scratch though. The two boys pulled themselves up off of the dirt wordlessly, stunned by the events that had just unfolded.

“What. The. HELL. Was. That?!” Snape panted. His eyes were still wide with terror, and James felt a pang of pity for the boy. James met his eye and sighed in defeat. How was he going to explain this? He took a moment to compose himself, to gather his thoughts and find a way to express all of this. He didn’t get chance though. Snape lost it. He stormed forward, eyes wild and wand drawn. James felt the end of Snape’s wand being jabbed harshly under his chin, digging in hard and bruising the tender skin.

“EXPLAIN!” he screamed. James’ hands were up once more in surrender, but he still couldn’t bring himself to speak. He tried, he really did, but his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, with no words coming out.

“Black! He tried to kill me! I could have been killed!” Snape seemed to reach his conclusion, turning from James, knotting his hands in his oily black hair, pulling it back hard. He was panting, panicking, James thought.  
“Severus I-“ he took a step forward kindly, trying to offer the start of an explanation, a comforting hand on the boy’s back perhaps? He hated Snape, Merlin knows it, but this wasn’t fair. James’ resolve had melted, and he felt…well, he felt sorry for him. But he didn’t have chance to act upon his good intentions. At the sound of James calm voice, Snape seemed to resort back to the ever-so familiar anger.  
“Sectumsempra!” he barked, flourishing his wand at James.

An invisible force knocked James back into the trunk of the Whomping Willow and an unseen force cut through his body in slashes. He lay gasping on the damp earth, staring up at the full moon in the dark sky. He flicked his eyes to Snape, to silently beg for help. Snape’s expression was stone cold fear.

“Help-“James gasped out. No help came. Snape stayed fixed in his spot. “P-please Sev-Sev,” he managed. He could feel the blood draining out of him, soaking the ground below him. His vision began to blur around the corners, and he felt him giving in to the sleepy feeling filling his body. Snape still hadn’t come to him. His eyes were heavy, and his lids were being pulled down. ‘Oh god,’ James thought, ‘Am I dying?’ Surely this was not the way he was meant to go. He felt like he was in a dream-like state now, sounds around him turning soft and muted. He heard someone talking though, but didn’t know who it was or what they were saying. It could have been Snape maybe, taunting him that he’s had the last laugh after all.

Unexpectedly, James’ hearing returned to his normal bat-like quality. His breath was no longer labored and the pain from the slashes in his chest was subdued. He forced open his eyes and looked up. The moon was no longer in his line of sight, it was blocked instead by the serious and grave face of Professor Dumbledore.

“Mr. Potter, can you hear me?” Dumbledore inquired.  
“Yeah - yes sir. Did – did Peter get the message to you?” James took Dumbledore’s outstretched hand and pulled himself off the ground, grunting in pain. He tried to put on a brave face though. McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey were stood behind Dumbledore, their looks both peculiarly unreadable. James looked down to his body and saw it covered with scarlet blood, but the wounds themselves were gone. He looked briefly to Snape, who looked like a deer in headlights. His attention quickly found Dumbledore and waited attentively for his answer.  
“Yes, Mr. Potter, Mr. Pettigrew did reach me. But it seems that we were too late to –“ he turned to look at Snape, and then retuned his attention to James “- prevent the damage from being done. But it would have been far worse, Mr. Potter, had you not been here to stop it. I owe you a solemn debt of gratitude. As does Mr. Snape here.”

Dumbledore turned to Snape, as if he expected Snape to thank James. He looked down to the ground, but suddenly snapped his head up, as if he had gathered enough courage to say what he wanted to say.  
“How is that fair?! How is it fair that half-breed Lupin is allowed to attend this school?!” He spat the words out with the utmost contempt and it made James flinch. Any pity he’d had for Snape five minutes ago had gone and was replaced with hatred once more. His friend was not a half-breed. He was a kind, selfless, compassionate wizard, who cared more deeply about others than anyone James had ever met.   
“He could gut half the students in the school in ten min –“   
James took a step towards Snape.   
“Enough, Severus,” Dumbledore demanded. His voice was harsh and stern. It shut Snape up and stopped James in his tracks too.   
“We have plenty to talk about, now please accompany me to my office. Thank you again, Mr. Potter.” He nodded at James with sincerity, and James returned it. 

Snape and Dumbledore walked together in silence, leaving James with Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey.  
“What you did was brave James, but by god do not scare me like that again!” McGonagall chastised the boy lightly and took his arm, like she was supporting him. He supposed it looked like it was necessary. Dumbledore had cured the wounds from Snape’s curse, but James still needed mending properly. The slice above his collar bone was sore and stinging, while the bruising on his back, ribs and chin from the Whomping Willow’s earlier blow was throbbing and made him hunch slightly to alleviate the pain. He allowed Professor McGonagall to hold him and gave her a comforting smile.

“Come on Poppy, let’s get this boy fixed up,” McGonagall called to the nurse. Madam Pomfrey tore her gaze away from the Whomping Willow and went to follow the two in front of her. James caught her wipe a quick tear from her face and plaster on a brave face. ‘Remus,’ James thought. Madam Pomfrey was worried, he could tell from her face. Remus was going to be the one broken the most after this. James saw what the magical barrier had been doing to the wolf, and that was sure to have catastrophic impacts on the poor boy’s body. He cursed himself. ‘Why didn’t I change into Prongs,’ he thought. It was too late for that now. He just had to hope and pray that Remus was going to be okay. Well, as okay as could be expected. Together the three of them walked back to the castle to get James mended up in the hospital wing. They were all in for a long, sleepless night of worrying.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter covers the days immediately after the night of the prank from Remus' point of views. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Some descriptions of injuries in this chapter guys and a bit of an emotional journey for dear old Remus.

Remus could feel himself slipping in and out of consciousness as Madam Pomfrey transported him back to the school. He could hear the birds tweeting and the morning light was soft as he tried to force his eyes to open. They were just entering the school, he recognised the high arches of the entrance way. The jostling of the stretcher was agitating his wounds and he winced in pain. The sound of his discomfort caught in his throat and Madam Pomfrey whipped her head around to him upon hearing the pained noise from the boy.

“We’re almost there, love, hold on,” she smoothed down his hair lovingly, but avoided his eyes, Remus noticed. Was he really in that much of a state? He felt like he was, but let his eyes shut again and tried not to play his pessimistic thoughts. He was exhausted and in pain and didn’t want to think about it.

Remus thanked his lucky stars that it was as early as it was; no other students were wandering the halls at this time of morning. The last thing he needed was for rumors to start up about him. He hated being the center of attention at the best of times, but the mere thought of people seeing him like this made his chest tighten. He screwed his eyes shut again tightly, cursing himself for overthinking everything. It was a surprise that he wasn’t a Virgo, he quipped to himself.

Within a minute or two, the pair had reached the hospital wing, the heavy wooden doors heaving open. Madam Pomfrey bellowed in for help, and the slam of the hospital doors behind them gave Remus some comfort. The hardest part was over, he supposed.

“Minerva, quickly! Help me get him on the bed,” Madam Pomfrey called. McGonagall? Why was McGonagall here? He felt irrationally embarrassed that Professor McGonagall had to see him in this state and he unconsciously tried to pull the bed sheet covering him higher, up to his neck. He was bashful at the best of times, but he didn’t want anyone more than absolutely necessary to see his pitiful, scared, beat up body. He heard a sharp intake of breath as McGonagall arrive to the side of the stretcher, which was quickly stifled. Remus was weak, but he forced himself to lift his head oh so slightly to look at his professor, in order to give her a fragile smile, to reassure her that he was okay.

His movement caught her eye, and although her brow was furrowed in fear, she relaxed slightly at the sight of the sweet boy, who was trying so hard to quell her misery, despite all of his own. She returned the smile to Remus, who was satisfied. He went to lower his head back down to the pillow when he spotted someone else in the bed across from him.

“J-James?” croaked Remus. No. No, surely not. There was no way Remus was mistaken though, the mess of wild black hair, the chiseled jaw line and the circular glasses; it was his best friend across from him in the hospital wing, there was no doubt about it. James’ eyes were closed, he looked to be unconscious. Remus held his breath and desperately tried to run through the events of last night in his head. It was no use, he remembered nothing. Except…except he was sure that he remembered James’ scent in the tunnel and…

“No…” he whispered, so quietly it would have gone unnoticed if the room was not filled with an unnatural silence.  
“Oh god no, James!” This time his voice tore through his throat, ragged and breaking. The tears fell down his face freely as he tried to push himself up off the bed, battling his own pain and the hands of the two women pushing him down.

“Remus he’s okay! He’s fine Remus, please stop you’re going to hurt yourself!” the nurse cried, her own voice strained with emotion. Remus reacted, slowing his movements and looking to her directly. The adrenaline was surging through his body and despite his injuries he was sure he’d be able to fight his way to his friend if it came to it.  
“He’s…he’s okay? What happened?” he pleaded, his eyes flicking between Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall. “Please, I need to know, was it me? Did I…” he swallowed to try to alleviate the tightness in his throat, “Did I get to him?” His mind was racing. The two women looked at each other with lips tight. McGonagall nodded to Madam Pomfrey and took a step forward to speak to her student.

“First and foremost, Mr. Lupin, Mr. Potter is perfectly well, so please do relax,” McGonagall spoke calmly and clearly. Remus did relax significantly, but there was something wrong with McGonagall’s face. James was okay, but something else was not. “There was an incident last night concerning the Whomping Willow and yourself. No one was hurt, not by you. I fear that you may have gotten the short straw, injury-wise,” she quipped humorlessly. Remus didn’t pay attention though; his mind was whirling. His thoughts ran through his head a million miles an hour and he needed to know what happened. McGonagall clearly observed the urgency in Remus’ expression, so she drew a deep breath and continued.

“Mr. Snape found his was through the Whomping Willow last night and followed the tunnel to the Shrieking Shack. Mr. Potter found out and followed him. He tried to stop Severus from seeing you, but he didn’t get there in quite enough time,” she said curtly. “The two made it out safely, Madam Pomfrey’s barrier served its purpose and kept you contained. Professor Dumbledore has spent the evening with Mr. Snape, and they have come to an agreement.” Remus held his breath. Surely if Snape had anything to do with the outcome it would be terrible. He’d surely be expelled or exposed to all of his peers. He sighed defeated and allowed the tears to well up in his eyes. Remus very rarely cried, especially in front of others, but if there was ever a cause to cry, this would be it.

“They agreed,” McGonagall went on, “That it would be best that this incident stayed confidential. Snape has promised that he will not reveal your condition to another living soul. Dumbledore trusts his word, and therefore so should you, Mr. Lupin.” Professor said this last part with an unarguable finality. Remus released a sob and ducked his head down into his chest, allowing his mousey hair to cover his face. His sobs shook his shoulders and McGonagall seemed awkwardly frozen for a second, but then reached down and placed a kind hand on his back, rubbing it in gentle circles. They stayed like that for several minutes before Remus lifted a weak, trembling hand to his face and wiped away his tears and runny nose. He winced in pain as his fingertips brushed his face; his nails were gone. ‘Shit,’ he thought, ‘I really am in a state.’

Slightly embarrassed at his outward display of emotions, he tried to regain some composure. He looked up to his teacher and considered his next statement.  
“Thank you, professor. Thank you for letting me know and everything, but don’t you think maybe it would be best if we called it a day on my time at Hogwarts? I could have killed them, I could have…”  
“Nonsense, Remus. I won’t hear such things.” McGonagall brushed Remus’ comments off, paying the ridiculous suggestion no time. “I’m going to leave you now, in the capable hands of Madam Pomfrey.” McGonagall turned and strode purposefully towards the door but paused briefly. She turned to Remus and said,  
“You are valued as much as every other student in this castle, Remus. You need to remember that. You are a child, a gifted student. You are not defined by your lycanthropy dear, just as I am not defined by my Animagus. You belong at Hogwarts as much as anyone else, and you shall do so.” She turned to Madam Pomfrey, “Take good care of this one Poppy,” she said kindly, and this time she left the room for good.

Remus felt a light blush cover his face at the speech from McGonagall. He was never very good at accepting compliments, but it wasn’t very usual for McGonagall to dish them out, especially not that sincerely. He had to admit, he felt very special indeed in that moment.

Madam Pomfrey hurriedly prepared potions and brews for Remus for all sorts. He was given an abundance of dittany and a sleeping draft. It normally took a few minutes to kick in, so Remus took in the sight of his mangled body for a minute. He knew his fingernails had been ripped out, he could feel the naked tips throbbing and hot. Madam Pomfrey should be able to grow those back, he supposed. He felt burning slashes in several places on his body, littering his torso and limbs. The one that stood out to be particularly painful though was the one across his face. He felt it twinge earlier as his face contorted from crying. He must have pulled at the closing wound and reopened it, he chastised himself. He could feel hot droplets of blood dribbling slowly out. ‘Please don’t scar too badly,’ he prayed. He knew it was hopeless though. Wounds inflicted by magic could be partially healed, but they would always leave a scar. He signed, resigned to his fate of looking like a monster.

Sirius would hate him for thinking like this, but in his own mind it felt true. Concern flitted through his head once more, wondering why the Marauders didn’t come to the Shrieking Shack as normal yesterday. He knew now where James was, but what about Peter and Sirius? The sleeping draft was making his mind fuzzy, so he couldn’t dwell too long on this. He went back to assessing his body for injuries, and was drawn to his leg by a pain that was both a dull ache and a sharp stabbing pain. He shifted his position slightly to get hold of the sheet covering him, to see if he could pull it aside to examine the damage. Madam Pomfrey caught him just as the sheet was being pulled across his impaired leg.  
“NO,” she yelled, but it was too late.

Remus saw the injury and felt his breathing stop. His leg was twisted at an unnatural angle and was a sickening combination of purple, black and blue. He felt sick. He tore his eyes away and stuck his head over the side of the bed, his body screaming at the sudden movement. He retched and emptied the contents of his stomach over the floor of the hospital.

“’M sorry,” he murmured, red faced with embarrassment.  
“Pay it no mind, love,” Madam Pomfrey smiled at him, muttering the scourging charm and cleaning the mess in an instant. The sleeping draft was really taking over now, and Remus was glad. He lay his head back down in the pillow and let his eyes close. He drifted off and hoped that all the Marauders would be at his bedside when he woke up.

………………………………………….

Remus’ escape to unconsciousness was anything but peaceful. Vivid images flashed through his head, purple explosions, blood splatters, shards of splintered wood. The dreams were relentless, animalistic in nature. Nothing seemed linear either, the timeline was all wrong. Remus went from slashing himself apart to catching the scent of Snape and James before the transformation, to ripping away at the magical barrier. Nothing made sense. All he knew was pain. The physical toil the night had taken on him made its way into his dreams and he screamed. The emotional toll was worse though, making his chest feel tight and uncomfortable. 

“Remus!” He heard from in his dreams. The sound of the voice was not his own, and it contrasted the terror of his dreams. The voice was calling to him again, nervous and urgent.  
“Remus wake up! Wake up mate!” The voice became more agitated, it was brimming with emotion. The wolf clung to Remus even now, trying to keep him prisoner in his dream. He tried to pull himself away from the howling and terror, but he was trapped.

“Remus, get up!” A strong hand gripped his shoulder and shook him firmly. The jostling sparked pain in Remus’ damaged body, but this was enough to tear himself away from the wolf in his dreams. He started back to reality, gasping for breath, like he had been underwater. He blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to bring the blurry images before him into full focus. He heard sighs of relief and a low muttering of ‘thank god’. He blinked up at the figures again as his eyesight returned.

“James!” Remus wheezed. The feral haired boy looked down at Remus, his panicked eyes softening once more as a goofy grin lit up his face. He let himself breath out a relived chuckle before ruffling Remus’ hair.

“Bloody hell Moony! Don’t scare us like that, ay!” he joked lightheartedly. The atmosphere in the room had shifted with James’ consciousness and charisma, and Remus felt rejuvenated at once. He felt his muscles relax and rolled his eyes at his friend in front of him. ‘Thank god for Prongs,’ Remus thought.

Madam Pomfrey let out a shuddering sigh too, relived that James could raise Remus from his nightmares. “Right, you can catch up for a while you two,” she said strictly, “but you both need more sleep. You’ve got fifteen minutes before I come back to you both with sleeping drafts…” she paused for consideration, “maybe a dreamless sleep potion for you Remus…” she left abruptly to collect the medicines and left the two boys alone.

Remus wiggled his body up, so he was sat in an upright position. He was sore, very sore, but Madam Pomfrey had been administering the healing spells while he was asleep. He wounds had closed and his leg fixed up. It must have been bad though because it was splinted and bandaged. Normally Madam Pomfrey can fix any broken bones in an instant. ‘Maybe it was because the magic from the barrier did it,’ Remus considered. His fingernails were back too, thank Merlin. James sat in the chair next to Remus’ bed and pulled it closer, so that he could lean his elbows on his bedside. He proceeded to rest his chin in his hands and looked up at Remus with a cheesy grin  
“You look like a five-year-old waiting for sweets sat like that,” Remus laughed. James chuckled too, eyes creasing in the effort, but he made no attempt to move. Remus’ laughter trailed off and his mind wondered back to last nights’ events. He thought of James lying motionless in the bed and his body gave an involuntary shuffle. His face now serious, he turned to James.

“What happened?” he asked solemnly. James’ smile slipped from his face, and he sat up straight, letting out a heavy sigh.  
“Madam Pomfrey told you about Snape?” James asked.  
“Yeah, but not how you got hurt.”  
“Right,” he ran his fingers through his unruly hair, trying to come up with the best way to spill the news. “Well, I got there in time to confront Snape before he saw you, but he wouldn’t leave with me. I begged him to come with me, but you know how our dear old Snivellus can be…” James tried to make light of the situation, but he couldn’t convince even himself. “In the end he saw you, and I dragged him out of the tunnel. You didn’t hurt us; you couldn’t even get close; that spell by Pomfrey was unbreakable! Anyway, we got out of the tunnel and Snape lost it. You can imagine, can’t you? Stupid prat was shouting all sorts, accused me of trying to kill him even though I’d just saved his arse, the ungrateful sod. I tried to calm him down,” James’ look changed to one of genuine sadness. “I mean, I did feel sorry for him. He was in a hell of a state. I tried to reason with him but before I could he jinxed me. I’ve never heard the spell before, Sectum something.” James was rubbing the back of his neck now, clearly hiding something from Remus. He tried to move on, but Remus interrupted.

“What did it do? The spell I mean,” James looked at him and winced, looking awkwardly at his feet.  
“Ack, Remus it doesn’t really matter, it was just Snape being a tool. Anyway I – “  
“No James,” Remus interjected again. He knew now that it was bad. James had always tried to protect his friends and hiding the truth from his friends when something might have hurt them was a specialty of James’. “I need to know. This is my fault, I need to know what Snape did to you because of…because of me,” Remus held James’ eye contact and saw something churn in James’ expression. Something raw and angry.  
“None of this is your fault,” he said with passion, leaning forward to get closer to Remus. It left no room for Remus to debate; James was certain on this point. “The spell was harsher than Snape imagined, I think. You should have seen his face when he cast it, I think he pissed himself,” James sniggered. Remus’ expression was still serious. James sighed, knowing that Remus wasn’t going to let this drop until he knew what had happened. “It cut me. Three deep slashes here.” He traced lines across his chest. Remus felt sick.  
“Let me see,” he demanded, uncharacteristically assertive.  
“W-what?” James stuttered. Remus did not.  
“Let me see. Your chest. Let me see.” James gaped at Remus’ unblinking eyes, his mouth slightly agape at the commanding nature of his friend. He sighed, defeated, and started to undo his buttons. He pulled his shirt back and let Remus’ eyes fall upon the new scars. The wounds were healed, but due to the magical nature of their affliction, they would scar. They were pink now, but he could already see the silvery lines moving from the outside in.

Remus was about to cry again, for the third time that morning. ‘None of this would have happened if it wasn’t for me’ he cursed to himself. James seemed to read his mind.  
“This is Snape’s doing Moony, not yours. I’m not going to let you punish yourself for this.” It was James’ turn to be assertive now. He buttoned his shirt back up and looked his friend squarely in the eyes.  
“If you blame yourself, I’m never going to forgive you, you hear me Lupin?” There it was again, the kindness of James Potter. Damn, he was too good for this earth. Remus couldn’t help but chuckle, how did he get so lucky to meet people who cared about him so much?  
“Anyway,” James lent back in his chair, one ankle now rested on the knee of his other leg, hands clasped behind his head and he lay out coolly, “Chicks dig scars.” 

The two boys couldn’t contain themselves. They snorted in laughter and couldn’t regain their composure for a good few minutes. When they eventually calmed down, Remus’ mind wandered to the other Marauders.  
“Where are the other two,” he asked. “Why aren’t they here?” He questioned James, innocently. All of the playful charm that twinkled in James’ face mere moments before was gone, and they were filled now with that frightening raw anger Remus had clocked when James spoke earlier. Remus shifted uncomfortably in his seat; was it something that he said?

“I-is everything, er, okay?” he said awkwardly. James shook his head.  
“No, not really mate. I don’t really know how to say this but er…” Remus noticed that James was making a conscious effort to hide his own anger. He hands were balled up into fists and pressing down hard into his thighs. He gave a heavy sigh and looked up to Remus.  
“Sirius told Snape where to go. He told him about the tunnel in the Whomping Willow and bet him that he couldn’t get in there during a full moon. I’m sorry mate, I really am. I’m furious at him. I…I didn’t…well I maybe…” James became bashful all of a sudden and his ears were burning red. “I didn’t handle it very well. I was angry. Well, I’m still very angry. I can get him for you if you want though. I don’t know why he did it and I haven’t seen him since he told me so…” James drifted off. He was eyeing Remus carefully for his reaction.

Remus was stunned. He didn’t know how to accept this information. Surely, James had got it wrong. Sirius was reckless, but he wasn’t cruel. He wouldn’t do that to Remus. He wouldn’t do that to Snape even, surely?! Remus felt like laughing, because the very notion of this was so…so absurd. But James wasn’t joking. Remus open and closed his mouth like a fish, looking for something to say. But he couldn’t find the words. He didn’t have anything to say, he was numb.

Sirius asked him once, what his biggest fear was. Remus didn’t have to think, he replied without hesitation – becoming the monster he was expected to be, he had answered. It was one thing being a werewolf, but it was another thing acting upon it. Taking another life, or even turning another human into one. The thought had terrified Remus since he was a child and the fear had never left. Remus had only ever told this fact to Sirius. He of course comforted Remus, told him that was never going to happen. But it almost did. Because of Sirius.

Remus looked to James once more in hopelessness. His body sagged and a deep, unwavering sadness washed over him. ‘This is betrayal,’ Remus thought.

“Sirius.” He stated miserably. “Right.”  
“Did you…did you want me to get him for you?”  
“No, I can’t…” Remus trailed off.  
“Yeah, I don’t blame you. He’s been a prat and there is no excuse for any of this. You have every right to be angry at him.” But the truth was, Remus wasn’t angry. He was devastated. Devastated that someone that he…well, someone that he cared for as much as Sirius would do something like this to him. The kicker was that Remus really thought that Sirius had…cared for him too. Neither of them had ever said as much, but Remus had caught the glances that Sirius had made. He savored their quiet conversations and held his breath when Sirius’ body innocently brushed past his own. But how could anyone…care about another and do this to them. ‘Pathetic,’ Remus punished himself. It was pathetic to think that someone like Sirius could care about someone like Remus. The lump in his throat threatened to turn into a fully-fledged sobbing fit any second now, so Remus cleared it quickly and attempted to compose himself.

“Thanks Prongs. Thanks for being here with me.” He assessed James’ situation for a second. He was broken too, that his best friend would do something like this. “You know, I won’t be offended if you want to go to him,” he said quietly.  
“You’re kidding aren’t you Remus?” he laughed harshly, “I’m not going anywhere near him. I’m sticking with my Moony, thank you very much,” He punctuated his by ruffling Remus’ hair in brotherly affection. Some of the tension in the room dissipated at this, but Remus still felt hollow and empty. He had no doubt either that James was still filled with a fiery rage.

“Boys, time for bed!” Madam Pomfrey announced. Neither fought it and James slunk back off to his own bed, giving his friend a genuine and comforting smile. Both boys welcomed the sleeping drafts and took them without a fight.

“This is a dreamless one love, you shouldn’t get any nightmares this time,” Madam Pomfrey assured Remus. He thanked her and she stood in-between James and Remus’ beds.

“These are strong one’s boys, you’ll be out until tomorrow morning.” She raised her hand just as James’ mouth had opened to protest. “You have both had a very…eventful night. You need your rest. No arguments. I’ll see you both when you wake up.” Remus was half asleep before she’d finished her speech and welcomed the dreamless rest.

…………………………………….

When Remus woke up, it was indeed the next morning, as Madam Pomfrey had promised. After nearly a whole day's sleep he really did feel much better. He pushed his body up out of bed and looked around for James. He wasn’t in his bed, but instead sat with Madam Pomfrey at her desk, deep in concentration. The two were battling it out in a game of exploding snap. Remus rolled his eyes; trust James to convince the ever-conscientious Madam Pomfrey to play a game with him.  
“Ahhh!” she shrieked and laughed heartily and the last of James’ cards exploded loudly as he slammed his hand down on the table.  
“I win! Cough up Pomfrey!” he boasted in delight.  
She giggles and hands over the last plaster to James, who adds it to his pile of about ten. The two laugh and chat jovially as Remus wiggles his way out of bed. He puts his feet on the ground and attempts to stand. He manages it and happily takes a few steps forward. His leg is still sore, but he can walk, albeit with a painful limp.

“Oh Remus, dear, how are you feeling?” Madam Pomfrey jumped up from to assess the boy.  
“Yeah, much better thank you! I don’t know how you fixed me up so well, but…good job I guess,” Remus smiled at the kind nurse. She looked proud at this compliment and stood up a little taller.  
“Yes, well that’s good, I’m glad to hear it. The two of you are good to go, I suggest you get back to a normal school day to avoid too much suspicion. Your uniforms are here, I had a house elf fetch them.” The boys thanked her and went to collect their clothes to change.  
“One other thing,” she said. “Your friend Sirius has been here. He’s stopped by a couple of times actually. McGonagall instructed me to not let him in, but I thought you ought to know that he was asking after you both…” she seemed to contemplate saying something else too but changed her mind. She shut her mouth and nodded, walking away to her office to let the boys change in private.

Remus felt a surge of anxiety at this revelation. He didn’t want to see Sirius right now. He didn’t want to look at his face and forgive him. He didn’t want to hear his pathetic attempt at rationalizing why he did what he did, and he certainly didn’t want to forgive him. His face must have been a picture, because James spoke like he had read his thoughts.  
“We don’t need to speak to him mate. It’s up to you, but I won’t let him get near you if that’s what you want?” James spoke calmly but with conviction. Remus had no doubt about James seriousness on the matter.  
“Yeah, I think that would be best. I…I don’t want to see him to be honest, let alone talk to him. I’m not interested in hearing what he has to say.” Remus looked down and busied himself by pulling on his trousers.

“Don’t blame you Moony. We’ll just keep our distance, yeah?” James mirrored Remus and pulled on his own trousers, tucking his shirt in and tightening his tie.

When the two were ready, they left the hospital wing, thanking Madam Pomfrey on the way out. She gave Remus a poultice with dittany to apply to his new scars to help them heal and hugged both of the boys and told them to come and see her if any of their injuries were playing up. She also tried to give him a cane, which he absolutely, profusely refused.  
“Well then, you need to take it very easy on that leg Remus,” she said seriously. He agreed and scurried out of the hospital, before she changed her mind and forced it on him. 

It was still early, so the boys headed to the great hall for some breakfast. They were both brimming with emotions, but James tried to fill the anxious silence with mundane chatter about the upcoming quidditch match. Remus was grateful of the distraction, until they entered the great hall. 

The first thing that the duo noticed was Snape. He was sat huddled over at the Slytherin table, deep in conversation with Regulus Black and Barty Crouch Jr. Remus blanched and began trembling slightly. ‘Shit,’ he thought. He was so worried thinking about seeing Sirius that he hadn’t even thought about seeing Snape. As if he sensed his fear, Snape looked up, eyes meeting Remus’ own. His face was a caricature, twisted and contorted in disgust. He looked at Remus like he was an animal; but then that is how he saw him last, Remus realized. If looks could kill, Remus really would be a dead man. He let his hair fall into his face, as if it could shield him somehow.

James slung an arm around Remus’ shoulder in an act of nonchalance.  
“Don’t give him the satisfaction, Moony. Come on, let’s get fed, I’m bloody starving.” James had nuzzled into Remus’ side while slinging his arm over, and despite his calm exterior, Remus could feel the heartbeat pounding through his chest. The fact that his friend was also shitting himself gave Remus a weird surge in confidence.

The two scanned the Gryffindor table synchronously and spotted Sirius at the end of the table on his own. He was hunched over, his thick hair falling in his face, covering it. He pushed his food around on his plate and spoke to no one. James looked at Remus and drew himself up taller.  
“Here, let’s sit over there,” he pointed to further down the table. The boys lumbered past Sirius, not paying him any attention. He glanced up though, at the sound of people arriving, obviously anticipating his friends’ arrival. He shot up, knocking the bench backwards in his haste.  
“Remus!” He gasped. Remus didn’t look his way and kept on walking. Sirius was flustered by the blatant ignoring and tried to scurry after them. He put his hand on Remus’ shoulder in an attempt to stop him leaving. Remus ducked abruptly, like the hand had burned him. He began to turn to face his friend, slowly and reluctantly. James, however, was already spun around and had wedged himself between Remus and Sirius. He had shoved Sirius back hard enough to make him stumble. Remus felt the force of the shove, he had heard the deep thump reverberating through Sirius’ chest.

“Back off. Leave him alone.” James snarled, dangerous and provoked. Remus was facing the pair now, mouth ajar. Sirius’ face was twisted up in pain, his hand rubbing his chest. His face…his face was battered. His one eye was swollen half shut and the surrounding flesh was raw and swollen, red and purple bruises surrounded his eye and covered his cheek. There was a thick, ragged gash that cut through his high cheekbone. Remus’ stomach flipped, he felt sick. The guilt churned up in his stomach again but was overpowered by his grief of Sirius’ betrayal. Now, stood there looking at Sirius, anger was beginning to fester too, and he hated it.

“Please,” Sirius pleaded at James, “Just let me explain, let me speak to Remus for a minute.” James took a threatening step towards Sirius. He jumped back hurriedly, eyes looking down. He was scared, Remus realised.

“I said, back off.” James growled. He stared down Sirius and left no room for negotiation on the matter. Sirius closed his mouth and held his arm with his hand. He had never looked so small and afraid. He looked once more to Remus, his eyes begging him for help. Remus did not grant it. He admitted defeat, and turned and left, head down and tail between his legs.

James looked back to Remus and plastered on a fake smile. “Come on mate, let’s eat.” The two ignored the perplexed stares of their peers and filled their plates. The problem was that Remus didn’t feel much like eating anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has been leaving kudos! I'd love to hear from you in the comments :) 
> 
> Also, for those of you who aren't from the UK, plasters are what we call band-aids, that's what James and Madam Pomfrey are using instead of money in their exploding snap betting match :D


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter covers the day after the prank from Sirius' point of view. 
> 
> This chapter touches lightly on some injury detail, but nothing graphic at all. Sirius is being pretty angsty here, so be aware of that :) There is also a brief mention of some underage drinking.

‘Oh God,’ Sirius woke to his head throbbing The sound of scuffling and shuffling in the dorm room had woken him up. His head was pounding, and the room was spinning; ‘what the hell happened?’ he thought.  
“Uggh,” he moaned as he pushed himself up off of his bed. He around looked to investigate where the sounds were coming from and noticed someone pottering about a few beds over. It was Peter collecting his books and shoving them hastily into his bag. He looked up when he heard Sirius moan, but did not meet his eyes. He continued to pack his bag, like he was in a hurry to get out of the room.

It was then that Sirius remembered what had happened the night before, his unwanted memories came flooding back. For one blissful moment there his head had been swimming because he and James stayed up too late with the girls sipping on fire whiskey. Well, it did have something to do with the fire whiskey. The liquid in the half empty bottle sloshed around as Sirius moved his legs. He felt his face become hot, ‘how embarrassing, drinking yourself into oblivion, alone’ he cursed himself.

But he realized that his head wasn’t throbbing just because of the wretched hangover. His face felt tender and swollen and he remembered why. He hung his head in shame for a second, trying to come to terms with how to face the day.

“Hey, Peter,” Sirius managed weakly. Peter slowed down for a second, but still refused to meet Sirius’ eyes, but he did throw a small smile in Sirius’ general direction. Sirius didn’t blame him. “Where is James, has he gone to check on Remus? How…” he trailed off, scared to know the answer, “How is Remus?”

His chest tightened and he held his breath. He searched Peter’s face desperately for answers. Selfishly, he wanted to know they were both okay so that he could stop quite worrying so much.

“I… I don’t know,” Peter muttered. He sounded scared, Sirius realized. “James didn’t come back to the dorm last night. I’ve been down to the hospital, Madam Pomfrey won’t let me in.” He turned to face Sirius now, and he looked…irritated. Not the raging anger that James had had when he hit Sirius, nor the insufferable disappointment he had displayed when Sirius told him about what he had done. But then Peter wasn’t as close to Sirius as James was. Those two were brothers and Peter was more like the little cousin, who desperately wanted to be thought of as the third brother. As much as they included Peter and loved him, the unique bond between Sirius and James was undeniable.

“Right,” Sirius was panicking now. ‘Shit, shit, shit,’ he leapt from his bed and shoved on his own clothes, Peter watching him bemused. He didn’t collect any books for his lessons that day, he just dressed and left without saying goodbye to Peter. 

His hair was a mess, he hadn’t brushed his teeth and the cut on his face had reopened and left smudges of dried blood around it. He didn’t care though. He raced from the Gryffindor common room and bolted through the corridors to the hospital wing. If James didn’t come back, one of two things must be happening. The first was that Remus was so hurt and injured that James point blank refused to leave his side, not even for a second. The other option was that James was so hurt and injured that he physically couldn’t leave the hospital wing. Obviously, neither were good options, and Sirius felt like he was going to be sick.

He reached the hospital wing in record time. He pushed the doors open but before he could take two steps inside, Madam Pomfrey was there blocking his way and ushering him back out beyond the doors.

“Madam Pomfrey, please let me in- “Sirius started, trying to dodge the witch to get passed her.  
“You’re going nowhere, son, calm down. I’ll tell you what is going on, but only if you calm down,” she said kindly yet firmly. He let his urgent attempts to get passed her die down, because she was going to offer him information, and he needed to know what was going on. “The two of them are in a very bad way,” she started. His heart dropped. The fire whiskey from last night felt like it was about to make a reappearance as Madam Pomfrey continued. “Nothing irreparable mind you, they will both make full recoveries, save from a few scars. Lots of damage has been done last night though Sirius, not only physically, but emotionally too.” 

‘She knows,’ he thought, and he lost his ability to make eye contact. She was right, absolutely right.  
“But…but they’re going to be okay?” he asked. “And Sniv- I mean, Snape, is he…is he hur- is he okay too?” Sirius knew he must have sounded pathetic, not even being able to ask if someone he put in mortal danger is going to be okay, if they’re even alive.  
“Yes, they will be fine. And Severus was uninjured. He was with Dumbledore last night, discussing the events.” Sirius let out the breath he had been holding in and felt like he could sob for hours. But he didn’t, he didn’t have the right to get emotional right now. This was his doing, after all.

He felt Madam Pomfrey’s eyes on him and looked up to her to thank her for telling him. He met her gaze and was shocked. It was the first time in a long time that someone had looked at him with sympathy. It stopped him in his tracks for a second, and he shuffled uncomfortable, unsure on how to respond.  
“That looks nasty,” she said, referencing his eye. “Let me get my things, I’ll fix it up for you,” she turned to go and collect her equipment when Sirius stopped her. He spoke softly, it was pitiful really.  
“Thanks, but I’m fine, just…just please look after my friends.” He cringed at his own weakness and felt like a child. He didn’t look back up to Madam Pomfrey before turning away from her, he didn’t want to see her pity. He finally understood what his mother had seen in him all this time now. She obviously knew him better than he knew himself. 

…………………………………………..

Sirius couldn’t face lessons; he couldn’t think of anything worse than his peers staring at his battered face and hearing the whispers of their theories on what had happened. He couldn’t think about going to transfiguration class and seeing the two empty seats next to him. He slunk out of the building and down to the lake instead. It was a beautiful day. The sky was a soft baby blue colour and the sun shone down, reflecting off of the lake; it didn’t match Sirius’ gloomy mood in the slightest. He labored down to the edge of the lake and allowed himself to plop down lazily on the grass.

He felt shit. Absolute shit. His head hurt from his hangover, his face hurt from his beating and his stupid heart hurt from his stupid betrayal. He just wanted everything to be normal. He wished he could go back in time and stop himself from being such a reckless dick.

He fumbled about in his trouser pockets, sure that he had a couple of fags and matches in there somewhere. He found a few half-crushed cigarettes and straightened them out before placed one between his lips as he tried to find the matches. They were there, thank Merlin, and he lit the cigarette and sucked in as if his life depended on it. He lay back and looked at the sky. He closed his eyes and allowed his thoughts to wander. He tried desperately to not think of the last night’s events, he tried to think of anything else. But his mind inevitably made its way back to the ‘prank’.

Sirius wondered what people would think if they could see him now, what his mother would think if she could see him like this. His cigarette hung loosely from his lips, his hair was a disheveled mess, and his clothes were creased, his buttons of his shirt done up wrong. His face was black and blue and swollen and bloody, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care if he looked like a mess, because finally the flesh reflected the mess within.

By the time he sat up again, it was much later in the day, drawing close to lunchtime he supposed. He couldn’t think of food, his stomach churned at the thought of eating. He took out another cigarette though and let the nicotine calm his jitters somewhat. It was then that he heard the footsteps creep softly towards him. He could only hear one person, that much was a relief. He tried not to look jumpy. He tried to keep his composure, but he couldn’t help but get a little nervous. Was it Snape, looking to come and get his revenge? James? Peter? Was it his brother, coming to taunt him of the loss of his friends? Had the rumors really spread that quickly?

The footsteps seemed to slow and reconsider their route. Sirius kept his attention fixed on the cigarette squeezed between his fingers.

“Hi,” the soft voice cut through the silence, “Mind if I sit?” Lily asked tentatively. Sirius turned to look at her over his shoulder. He considered her for a second but nodded silently and gave her the permission she was seeking. She moved closer and sat down at an arm’s length away from him. “That looks bad, your eye. Why don’t you let me fix it?” Lily said this with an undisputable kindness. She was not being patronizing or pitying the boy, she was simply looking to help him and offer him some company. Sirius hated it. His defenses were up, and his eyes hardened. He didn’t deserve kindness. He didn’t turn to look at her to respond.  
“No, I deserve it, leave it be.” He offered the explanation truthfully and conclusively. Lily sighed but didn’t argue with him. He continued to draw deep breaths from his cigarette. He considered trying to concoct a spell once, that allowed the cigarette to be smoked infinitely. God, how he wished he’d stuck with that venture right now.

Lily didn’t offer him any further comments, but just sat with him, taking in the views of the lake. She was silently comforting him, and he enjoyed it. He liked the companionship that she was offering, but as soon as he started relaxing and enjoying the feeling, the guilt swept in. How could he be sat here finding solace and comfort when his two best friends were in the hospital because of him? He was furious at himself for being so cavalier but was angry at Lily too. She made him feel like this.

“What do you want, Evans? You just here to bug me, to feel sorry for me? Or is it so that you’ll feel better about yourself for trying to save the sad sack of shit?” He said this without raising his voice, but the edge was sharp and cutting. He intended for it to be so. Lily looked at him, irritated. But she didn’t raise to the bait like he had hoped.  
“No, I’m here to look at the lake, but you just happen to be here. Not everything is about you Sirius,” she responded to him jokingly, but he wasn’t in the mood.  
“I didn’t need you to stick up for me last night, and I don’t need you to look after me now. You have no idea what is going on, so why you think it’s okay to insert yourself into my life is beyond me,” he growled this time, his back up. Lily’s shoulders slumped and Sirius felt bad. He really did. But he needed to feel bad about himself, he didn’t need someone to make him feel better. He needed her to leave.

“Okay tough guy, I’m gone.” She stood up, still not angry, still keeping the air around her light. “But remember, I am always here, if you change your mind or ever need anything. No strings attached, no judgement. It’s good to talk sometimes Black.” With that she turned, red hair bouncing along behind her. Sirius couldn’t help letting his mouth fall open at the confidence of the girl. Where had she gotten it from? He had seen a very different side to Lily Evans over the past 24 hours. And he didn’t hate it.

…………………………………………..

After letting the day stretch out before him, Sirius decided to head back to the common room. It was late enough now that he would have missed the end of lessons, and therefore the corridors should be quieter, and less eyes would be assessing him. He drew himself up, searched for his resolve and strode towards the castle.

He kept his head low as he hurriedly made his way back to the Gryffindor common room. He wanted to curl up in his bed and sleep until he could see his friends. He avoided eye contact with everyone and kept his head bowed down low, hoping that his unkempt hair was hiding most of his face.

“Mr. Black, I’ve been looking for you. Please follow me.” Professor McGonagall stood directly in Sirius’ path and didn’t wait for his response before turning away from him and heading down the corridor, cloak flowing behind her elegantly. Sirius had been expecting this. James sent Peter to find McGonagall last night, so he knew she knew. He remembered Peter’s simple statement; she’s furious. He couldn’t say he was particularly surprised.

He could hardly argue back, given the atrocities of his actions, she was well within her rights to punish him. He followed along behind her like a trodden down house elf. She didn’t utter another word until they reached Dumbledore’s office, when she clearly announced the password,  
“Butterscotch toffees,” the stone eagle turned away, allowing them to climb the stairs. Sirius knew now that this was the end of his time in Hogwarts. McGonagall would normally deal with behavioural issues herself, but Dumbledore only handled the most serious of cases. Sirius had been dreading this; he hoped it wouldn’t come to it, but he also felt a sense of relief now. The inevitable was happening, at least they were putting him out of his misery. Maybe he could sneak away tonight too, so he wouldn’t have to face his friends after what he had done. But then again, the thought of never getting to apologize to them, to attempt to explain himself, that thought filled him with despair.

“Ahh, there you are Sirius,” said Dumbledore. His tone was jovial, it didn’t suit the severity of the matter at hand. It was like he was welcoming Sirius for tea and cake.  
“Would you like some tea, cake maybe?” Dumbledore asked ironically. Sirius snapped his head up at this and saw a mischievous twinkle in the headmaster’s eye. It was like he knew what Sirius had been thinking. ‘Wouldn’t put it past him,’ Sirius thought.  
“No, thank you.” Sirius said, bringing the lightness of the atmosphere down with his dulcet tone. Dumbledore seemed to acknowledge this and sat down at his desk, gesturing for Sirius and Professor McGonagall to join him at the two seats before him. They both obliged.

Sirius hadn’t been able to look at McGonagall once since she spoke to him in the corridor. Yes, she was a strict teacher, but there was so much more to her than that. She was kind and really did love her students. Not that she would ever admit it, but she seemed to have a soft spot for the Marauders too. She often chuckled at their pranks and jokes when she thought no one could see her. She had really taken Sirius under her wing too. He thought back to his first year in Hogwarts, to a specific event about a week after the sorting ceremony. His parents had gotten word that he’d been sorted into Gryffindor and had sent him a howler. It dropped down in his lap while at breakfast one morning. The great hall was full to the brim. He knew what it was as soon as he saw it; he grabbed it and ran. He hoped to make it to the solace of his dorm room before it shrieked at him, but he hadn’t been so lucky.

The letter had ripped itself open in the corridor, just outside of the transfiguration classroom. His mother had roared at him through the parchment, screaming all sorts of profanities. “You’re a disgrace,” it had said. “An embarrassment to the most ancient and noble house of Black!”. It went on, getting worse and worse. He forced his tears away and continued to run back to the dorm room, where he pulled himself together in private. Later that day, at the end of the transfiguration lesson, McGonagall had asked him to stay behind. She offered him biscuits and tea and the two had sat and chattered away, exchanging all kinds of pleasantries. Professor McGonagall had told Sirius how proud she was to have him in her house. No one had ever told Sirius that they were proud of him before. He beamed; the smile didn’t leave his face all day. At the end of their chat, he asked McGonagall why she asked him to stay. She said she did it with all of her new pupils. He asked around the other new Gryffindors, but found he was the only one. It was only a few weeks later, when all of the pieces fell into place in his head, that he realised wherethe howler had exploded. He realised that she had heard everything, she knew how cruel his mother could be. He also knew then that McGonagall didn’t want to upset him or patronize him. She just wanted to look after him, to show him that he meant something.

She checked up on him often and tea and biscuits had become their new ritual. He gifted her an enchanted tin of biscuits for Christmas one year, the spell animated the tin and the images on the front danced and waved. The biscuits would replenish themselves too, once they had been finished. He made sure that the flavors always changed too, so they would have a new type of biscuit every time they sat down for tea. It was something that he always looked forward too. He had a huge amount of admiration for McGonagall. He was ashamed to look at her now, he knew how much he had disappointed her, just like he had disappointed everyone else that he cared about over the last 24 hours.

Sirius was drawn back to the present by Dumbledore clearing his throat and beginning to address him.  
“So, we have a problem on our hands don’t we,” he paused, and waited for Sirius to acknowledge him. A small nod of his head seemed to satisfy the headteacher, so he continued. “Your actions were thoughtless, Sirius. They could have had dire consequences.” Dumbledore paused, as if to offer Sirius the opportunity to reflect on his actions. “Fortunately, everyone involved has made it out alive. Scathed, but alive.” Sirius felt sick. He twisted his hands compulsively in his lap and tried not to picture the dead, twisted bodies of his friends. His breath hitched in his throat. ‘Don’t cry, please don’t cry,’ he begged himself. Dumbledore continued.  
“Severus was very angry, as I am sure you can appreciate. After his experience in the tunnel, he feels that Remus is a danger to other pupils, and that he should be expelled from Hogwarts,” Sirius’ head shot up. Dumbledore stopped, sensing that Sirius had something to say on the matter.  
“No!” Sirius startled himself. He hadn’t meant to shout. “No, Professor Dumbledore, please! It wasn’t Remus’ fault! He would never hurt anyone; he is not dangerous.” He hung his head low again but took a deep breath to gather his confidence. He needed to say what he had been thinking all day. Now was the time. If he could do anything to redeem himself, this was it.

“If anyone acted dangerously, it was me. We all know that,” he braved a glance to Professor McGonagall at this time, and saw a mask of indiscernible emotion. Her mouth was pulled tightly into a thin frown, but her gaze did not waver from Sirius’ own. He said what he needed to say,

“If anyone needs to be expelled, it’s me. I acted impulsively and in the heat of the moment. I put my friends’ lives at risk, and Snapes too. I don’t think I will ever even begin to scratch the surface of redemption here, but one thing I can do is take full and undisputed blame.” His heart was pounding. His words had come gushing out, but he regretted nothing that he had said. He straightened himself up slightly, ready to take his punishment with sincerity.

“Thank you, Sirius, I appreciate your candor. But no one will be leaving Hogwarts tonight.” Sirius was confused. He has almost killed member of this school tonight, if that wasn’t worth expulsion, then what was?  
“Professor McGonagall here has told me that you are a member of the Gryffindor quidditch team. You will lose that right immediately. You will also attend detentions with Mr. Filtch until the end of term. We will also inform your parents of this unfort-“  
“Headmaster, I think that it would be best that Mr. Black’s parents are kept out of this matter,” Professor McGonagall spoke. Her eyes darted from Sirius to Dumbledore, a sense of urgency suddenly abundant in them. Dumbledore, clearly acknowledging the unspoken message from McGonagall, gazed at her over his half-moon glasses. She held her own. Sirius held his breath. To be honest, if his parents found out, they would probably be quite proud. They wouldn’t care about the fate of a ‘half-blood’ or a ‘blood traitor’ or a ‘half-breed’. But they would use it somehow. They would tell him how his true colours had finally shone through, how he would never be able to hide from his true Black nature. The very thought of the ‘praise’ that he would receive made him sick to his stomach. He’d rather be expelled than have them know about it.

“Very well, it will stay between us then. Severus has agreed not to tell a soul either, he gave me his word.” Sirius let out a shaking breath. He nodded and remained quiet, in the hope that he would be able to leave. Dumbledore was clearly aware and had nothing more to say.  
“Off you go then, get some rest and I am sure you will hear from your friends soon.” Sirius scrambled from his chair and almost ran to the door.  
“One last thing, Sirius,” the relaxed voice stopped him in his tracks. “They are good friends. Hard to come by, relationships like this. Do not throw it away. Let your guard down, and it will be sure to benefit you. Trust me, I have kept mine up for far too long, and it has done me no good. Perhaps you can learn from this and become a better and more honest man.” Sirius was shocked. He stood frozen in the wake of the powerful words spoken by Dumbledore. “Off you go now, we will catch up soon.”

…………………………………………..

Sirius was in a trance after leaving Dumbledore’s office, his head filled with confusion and replayed the cryptic advice. His punishment was the least of his concern. To be honest, he felt that he had gotten off too easy with them. He was walking back to the common room on autopilot, paying no mind to where he was or who was around him, his mind was otherwise engaged.

“Ahh,” he let out a pained yelp and he felt a body slam into his own. His chest still hurt, raw and bruised from being pushed against the wall by James the previous night. The collision with another boy had startled him and awoken the pain. He raised his head, letting his hair move to one side to see who had bumped him. Regulus. Sirius cringed, this was the last thing he needed right now. He tried to dodge him wordlessly, but Regulus quickly countered Sirius’ stride to remain in front of him. Barty Crouch Jr was there too, Sirius realized, and…his stomach dropped. Snape. Sirius felt sick, nothing could bring him more displeasure at this moment in time with a confrontation with these three.

“Ohh, what happened to you brother,” Regulus squealed with mock concern. He raised a hand to touch Sirius’ face, but Sirius was too quick and took a sharp step backwards. He allowed his face to contort to what he hoped would be a threatening look.  
“Fought off a Hungarian Horntail. Single handedly, I may add,” Sirius added, trying with all of his might to make this statement feel breezy and relaxed.  
“Hmm, that’s not what I heard,” Regulus teased. “I heard that your boyfriend, Potter, finally had enough of you and walloped you. In front of everyone.” Crouch and Snape snickered behind him, like a pair of idiotic baboons.  
“Don’t believe everything you hear, Reggie dear,” Sirius joked. “I mean, I heard a rumor the other day that you were still having problems talking to pretty girls,” Regulus went bright red, “But I’m sure that’s just a silly rumour too, right Reg?” Sirius felt a surge of pride in himself that he had managed to embarrass his brother. He turned his attention to Snape now, who seemed to be simmering quietly in the background. He glared at Sirius with all the hatred he could muster, but said nothing. It worried Sirius.

“Well, if we’re discussing rumours here, then I have the best one of all,” Regulus snapped. His tone was full of spite and excitement, and Sirius knew something bad was about to happen.  
“Please do tell, oh brother dearest,”  
“Well, given what I’ve heard Sirius, you had better savour your last few weeks as Hogwarts, because you won’t be returning. Mother and Father have got a job lined up for you.” Sirius’ face drained of colour,  
“Yes. That’s right,” Regulus continued. He stepped forward, sensing that he had a leg up in this battle of brothers. “They have arranged for all of your past discretions to be overlooked. You will become a valued member of the Black family, at long last. Just make sure you wear short sleeved robes to the job interview, aye. They might need to get to your forearm.” Regulus sniggered at the look on his brothers face. Sirius needed to be sick. He tried to keep up his mask of nonchalance, but he knew he was failing miserably. Regulus had clearly toyed with his plaything long enough and barged past Sirius, once again making his bruised chest fire up with pain. Snape paused just as he passed Sirius, and stood right in front of him. He looked him up and down and grunted a laugh of distain. He clearly felt that Sirius was defeated enough and trailed after his Slytherin buddies.

He needed his forearm visible. The thought ran through Sirius head over and over and over again. Surely not. Not even his parents would force him to get the dark mark, would they? He ran the rest of the way to the dorms, his mind racing and stomach churning. He needed to be sick, he needed to be alone and he needed to get drunk.

……………………………………………

Sirius stuck his head down the toilet as soon as he barged his way into the dorm room. He retched and heaved, bringing up the food he had eaten the day before. He felt disgusting and worthless and broken and sore. He hated himself. He hated his life. After cradling the toilet for five minutes, he forced himself up and turned the shower on. He pulled off his crinkled clothes and went to step into the much-needed shower. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror though and gasped as he noticed the bruises on his chest. They stood out against his pale chest; one round circle punched clearly on each of his pecs. He choked up unexpectedly at the sight of them. He reminded himself that his behaviour had warranted it, and went back to his plan of showering.

He felt a modicum better after his shower in his physicality, but his brain still ran wild. He needed to drink, that much he was sure of. Neither Remus nor James had returned to the dorm for the entire day, and his thoughts were running away from him when he tried to reason why. He should have asked Dumbledore and McGonagall earlier, he had realized. Peter was nowhere to be seen either, still keeping his distance from Sirius. He didn’t care though; he was happy to be alone. He found the bottle of fire whiskey where he had left it on the bed and proceeded to mindlessly gulp the liquid until he felt his brain become fuzzy and his thoughts quieten down. Despite the slowing of the thoughts, it did not kill them completely. Instead, it seemed to draw attention to Sirius’ fear for his friends. The cryptic message from Regulus seemed to be but a minor inconvenience at the moment.

After half an hour, Sirius was out of fire whiskey and out of patience. He needed to know what had happened to his friends. It was long after curfew, but he couldn’t give a shit. He strode out of the Gryffindor common room with comical certainty. He was dressed in his checkered pajama bottoms and a black Queen t-shirt. Queen was his favourite muggle band and Remus had given this shirt to Sirius for his last birthday. He never normally wore it at night and saved it for special occasions because he loved it so much. But tonight, it gave him comfort because it was from Remus, so he put it on to make him feel brave. 

He marched down to the hospital, but found the doors locked. He pushed hard but couldn’t get them to budge. He hadn’t drunk that much fire whiskey, had he? He pushed again, this time receiving a groan from the old wooden doors, but to no avail. He pushed and pushed and pushed but they didn’t move an inch. He gave up and resorted to banging and wailing from the wrong side of the doors.

“Madam Pomfrey! Madam Pomfrey are you there?!” he screeched. “Please, I wanna know how my friends areeee,” he slurred his words, but the desperation was clear. After several more heavy thumps to the doors, Madam Pomfrey allowed herself to wiggle out from a small gap she made in the doors.

“Sirius, I told you…” she drifted off. She looked and him quizzically and proceeded to... sniff him, oddly enough. “Sirius Black – are you drunk?!”  
“No- “he was cut off by a hiccup, betraying him. ‘Shit, she’s on to me,’ he thought. Madam Pomfrey let out a sign, as if she was exhausted by him. He knew the feeling. She looked him up and down and seemed to feel sorry for him. Her resolve slipped and she resigned herself to the fact that she was going to tell this boy what he needed to know.  
“Your friends are fine, dear. I gave them both strong sleeping potions told and healed them up nicely. They will be back with you tomorrow morning, if everything goes well. You, however, don’t look so well. Why don’t you let me take a look at you, hey?” she spoke softly and kindly and it set Sirius’ teeth on edge, like Lily had done earlier.  
“No, I just want to see them, okaaaaay,” he tried to indiscreetly slip passed her. He thought if he made it playful, maybe she would let it slide. His drunken brain thought this was a great idea.  
“No, Sirius. You can let me have a look at you, or you can leave. You shouldn’t be out of bed as it is.” She spoke sternly this time, and the change in tone took Sirius by surprise. He felt like he was being told off.

He gave up. He well and truly gave up. He gave up emotionally. He gave up physically.

He let his body crumple to the floor, his exhaustion allowing his legs to fall from beneath him. He let himself cry and howl and wail. He buried his face in his hands and wept, and felt a warm embrace engulf him.  
“Shhh, okay, you’re okay,” Madam Pomfrey whispered into his hair. This only made him sob more. They sat there on the corridor floor outside the hospital for what felt like hours. Sirius cried and Madam Pomfrey held him in her arms, rocking him back and forth.

‘These boys,’ she thought, ‘They’ll break my heart.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO much to people who have left kudos and comments! I appreciate all your feedback so much, I hope you enjoy this chapter!
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A continuation from Sirius' point of view again here guys! 
> 
> Some more angst in this chapter and again a reference to some underage drinking.
> 
> Enjoy!

The first rays of the daylight shone into the dorm room early that morning, waking Sirius from his sanctuary of sleep. He squinted as the soft morning light caught his eye and held a hand to block the warm light. It was peaceful in the room, but Sirius’ mind was spinning once more. ‘Too much booze again’ he thought, ashamed of himself. He looked down at his body. He was tucked tightly into bed, the blankets pulled tight around him. There was a glass of water at his bedside and his hair had been smoothed back off of his face. He rubbed a weary hand across his forehead, trying to remember what had happened last night. His memories were slow and sluggish because of the hangover that was dragging him down.

He remembered going to the hospital wing to visit his friends, but he couldn’t get in. A pang of worry twisted in his chest for the hundredth time in the past couple of days. He pushed it aside and tried to focus on remembering. He remembered the warmth of someone hugging him, and the cathartic feeling that he got from finally releasing his anguish. He remembered the trails of thick, hot tears racing down his cheeks. He squeezed his eyes closed tight in humiliation; he remembered his drunken break down to Madam Pomfrey.

She must have returned him to bed, he concluded. He felt a surge of warmth in his chest when he thought about her. She was genuine and would have wanted to made sure Sirius was okay. ‘Clearly she did,’ he thought. He pushed aside his blankets and swung his legs out of his bed. He let his feet hover above the floor and rested his elbows on his legs, allowing his hands to cup his face. He rubbed his eyes and temples, he scruffed up his hair. He was trying to wake himself up and scrub away the hangover that was making him groggy, slowing his thoughts. After a minute, he let his feet touch the ground and busied himself with getting ready.

He seemed to have found a slither of resolve under all of his self-pity. He knew that he would see his friends today, and he had to speak to them. He had to try, at the very least. He tried to make himself look presentable, but resigned himself to looking pitiful, at best. His hair was scruffy due to a lack of washing and brushing, his eyes were red and surrounded by deep, black bags and the injury on his face was only making his pale skin seem even more stark. Despite his embarrassment of his appearance, he dressed in his uniform and even collected his books. If James and Remus were being released from the hospital today, they would be attending lessons, so he would too. This would give him more of a chance to speak to them.

As he straightened his tie and lifted his book bag onto his shoulder, he tried to steady his nerves as he prepared to go about his day. He hands were shaking, he noticed. He shoved them hastily into his pockets, angry at his body for the outward betrayal of his worry. He wasn’t only worried about his friends. He was worried about Regulus’ message. He was worried about what his peers would be saying about him. He was worried about what Madam Pomfrey would think of him now after he had humiliated himself last night by acting like an emotional baby. He worried about facing McGonagall in his transfiguration class. He was worried about Snape, and his lack of retaliation. Suddenly, Sirius wished that he hadn’t drunk all of the fire whiskey last night, half a bottle would have done him wonders right about now.

He shoved him emotions down deep and focused on the smaller steps first. ‘Get to the hospital wing first,’ he demanded. Maybe he would be allowed in now, if they were feeling better. He straightened himself up and tried to apply his mask of indignation that he was so used to practicing from his time in the Black family. He avoided eye contact as he left the common room, he feigned disinterest at conversations and sly stares in the corridors. It was unhelpfully busy due to the proximity to breakfast, but Sirius didn’t let the façade slip. It was bloody hard, but he felt a small spark of pride when he made it to the doors of the hospital.

He summoned the strength the push past the embarrassment of last night’s events with Madam Pomfrey and knocked the doors. He knew it wouldn’t be helpful to anyone if he pushed his way through right now. His short raps at the door were followed by a long stretching silence. He was overthinking everything and he hated it. Should he knock again, should he leave, should he just go in? Before he drove himself completely insane, Madam Pomfrey appeared. She looked…happy.

“Sirius! Oh, it’s good to see you up and about dear, how are you feeling?” She approached him quickly, closing the doors behind her. She looked like she was going to hug him, but she seemed to stifle that thought and gave his arm a gentle rub instead.  
“Yeah, I’m okay, thank you,” he cringed internally but carried on, “I’m sorry about last night, I guess I lost my composure a bit but…” he stuttered, but Madam Pomfrey was patient, she allowed him the time to build up his courage. “But I just wanted to say…I-I just wanted to say thank you. For…looking after me. It meant a lot. I’m sorry if it caused you any trouble.” He once again found himself looking at the floor. He was sick of looking down.

“Nonsense love, that what I’m here for! To look after people!” she chuckled at her own wit. “Are you here to see your friends?” He looked up quickly, not expecting her to bring them up. He nodded quickly. “They’re just getting ready to leave, I suggest you go and get some breakfast and wait for them in the great hall. You need to build your strength back up.” Sirius didn’t move as he processed this information, paralysed by the fear that he would have to face his friends, who he had betrayed so undeniably. He was overjoyed, of course, that they were well enough to leave the hospital, but the fear won, churning in the pit of his stomach, like the fire whiskey had done the night before.  
“Go on, they won’t be long.” She ushered him off to breakfast and returned to her duties in the hospital wing.

…………………………………….

He spooned some eggs onto his plate and slid on a few pieces of toast to make it look like he was acting somewhat normally. He sat away from everyone, not needing to engage in any conversation this morning. The smell of the food wafted passed him; what normally smelt so good made his stomach churn today. He tried to nibble on a piece of dry toast, keeping his head down low to encourage others to leave him alone. Every time he felt the presence of someone pass by him, he raised his head slightly and peaked through the dregs of hair draped in his face, to check if it was James and Remus. The great hall was bustling, dozens of students passed by him, but none were who he wanted to see. His stomach was sick with anticipation and butterflies.

The next time he glanced up though, he saw them. James looked as good as he always did, although his eyes were a little more alert than normal. He knew that he would speak to James in due time, but his desperation to speak to Remus was unrivaled. He needed to grovel, beg and plead for forgiveness for what he had done. In the few brief seconds that he observed Remus, he could see that he was struggling with a limp. He had a new scar ripping across his face and several more on his neck. His heart skipped a beat and the nausea returned with a vengeance.

They were almost all the way passed him when he caught sight of them, so he leapt from his seat, evoking a substantial screech from the bench as it lurched back in his haste to get to them. “Remus!” he called, embarrassed at the weakness in his voice. Both James and Remus must have known that he was there, as they pointedly ignored him. He had to admit that this surprised him, he expected them to acknowledge him, to look him up and down with disgust or hatred, but the blatant denial of his existence shocked him a little.

He quickly found his resolve and darted after them, placing his hand on Remus’ shoulder to try and get him to look at him. Remus flinched away from him, like he had been burned by Sirius’ touch. Sirius would look back to this exact moment in the weeks to follow and remember the look of fear and devastation on Remus’ face; nothing had ever hurt him like that, never cut him so deeply. The person he…cared about so much was afraid of him, was torn apart because of him.

Before he could respond though, James had found his way between Sirius and Remus. His hands once again made rough contact with Sirius’ bruised chest to shove him away, to make the distance between the he and Remus as significant as possible. He winced in pain as the damaged area was once again agitated and raised his hands to cradle and rub the bruises.

“Back off. Leave him alone.” James spat at him. Sirius could help but flinch at the orders that James barked at him, so full of distain. He flicked his eyes to Remus, who was stood back stunned. His mouth was gaping open as he looked at Sirius, as he watched him take the abuse from James. He wanted so desperately to just hold him, and to be held by him.

He tore his eyes away from Remus, as hard as it was, and looked back to James, who remained in front of him. He was stood up tall, shoulders squared, ready for a fight if necessary. Sirius felt himself shrink.  
“Please,” Merlin his hated how pathetic he sounded, “Just let me explain, let me speak to Remus for a minute,” he was wringing his hands anxiously and shuffled on his feet. He opened his mouth to speak again but James was not budging. He took an intimidating step forward to come nose to nose with Sirius. That would be if Sirius hadn’t leapt back in fright. He cringed at his own weakness, he hated how powerless he was and how small he felt. He looked at the floor, rather than his friends, hoping that they didn’t think the same thing.

“I said, back off.” The finality in James voice was undisputable, but Sirius tried to think of something, anything he could say to change his friend’s mind. He opened and closed his mouth several times, but nothing came out. He clung to his one arm with his other hand and felt himself physically draw up into himself. He looked to Remus once more. Sirius hoped that Remus would say something to contradict James, to give him permission to speak, but he had no such luck.

He was defeated, and he had to admit it. He let his head hang low between his shoulders and turned around, walking away from his friends, walking away from the hope of reconciliation. He grabbed his book bag and left the great hall, heartbroken.

……………………………………………..

The day stretched out painfully. He took in nothing that the professors discussed in lessons, he spent his time pining after his friends instead. Peter, James and Remus had shunned Sirius; Lily sat in Sirius’ normal place at Remus’ request. He looked pained doing it Sirius realized. After watching him throughout their lessons and catching a few glances thrown his way, Sirius realized that Remus didn’t share James anger; he was hurt. He was devastated that Sirius had betrayed his trust the way he did. Remus didn’t need to use words to communicate that with him. The knowledge of this cut deeper than Sirius thought possible. But he realised it was no worse than what he deserved.

He resigned himself to sitting alone in lessons and ignored the stares of confused peers and teachers, obviously wondering what had split up the notorious Marauders. The whispered rumours and not-so-subtle stares seemed to permeate every minute of the day, but Sirius tried to ignore them. It was the last lesson of the day when it all became too much. It was transfiguration, and Sirius had dreaded seeing McGonagall all day. He shuffled into the classroom without looking around and set his book on the table, desperate for the day to end. That’s when it started.

Snape and Mulciber had cleverly maneuvered themselves so that they were sat at the desk separating Sirius from the rest of the Marauders, and Lily of course.  
“Looks like you finally did it, Sirius,” Mulciber taunted him. Snivellus was sniggering away, clearly excited for what was about to come. Sirius didn’t rise to the bait though, kept his mouth shut and kept his gaze fixed on the parchment before him. McGonagall wasn’t in the classroom yet. Despite his fear of seeing her, he bloody wished she’d hurry up and get there now. James and Remus sat up a little straighter, attentive to the shit that was surely about to be spewed from Mulciber’s arrogant gob. Mulciber was clearly enjoying himself though, so he carried on.

“Yeah, you’ve been the family disappointment for so long, but it looks like you’re redeeming yourself now!” Sirius’ shoulders tensed, and he prayed that Mulciber didn’t know about Regulus’ taunting from yesterday. “Mummy and Daddy will be so proud of you, old boy. You’ll be welcomed home at summer break. For the first time too, if I’ve heard correctly! Still, better late than never I suppose…” Mulciber drifted off, waiting for Sirius’ reaction. But there was none. To be honest, Sirius wasn’t really sure what he meant. He looked over to Mulciber, his confusion must have been etched on his face. As he glanced over, he caught the sight of James’ anxious face assessing the situation and a spark of hope rose in Sirius’ chest. Did he still care after all? He didn’t have time to dwell on it before Mulciber continued to provoke Sirius.

“Come on Black, surely you know what I am on about? You’re finally ridding yourself of the filth,” he gestured to the Marauders, and Sirius suddenly realized what he was talking about. “It took you long enough, but you’ve done it. No more dirty half-bloods, blood-traitor filth or mudblood scum in your company aye? You really are readying yourself for the war aren’t you.” The twinkle in his eye and the condescension in his voice made it abundantly clear that he knew none of this was the case. He knew Sirius was devastated at the loss of his friends, and he had found the perfect way to address it and to cause Sirius maximum pain in doing so. ‘Clever,’ Sirius thought, in the second before he launched himself at Mulciber.

He dove at him, and immediately wiped that smug look off his face. The tackle was strong and fierce, and the two boys were rolling around on the floor in an instant. Mulciber was far bigger and stronger than Sirius, but Sirius had the anger and passion on his side. He finally managed to get ontop of him, his legs pinning him down to the ground. He was vaguely aware of people shouting in the background, but he couldn’t pull his focus away from the boy beneath him. Sirius was blinded by anger and pulled his arm back to strike.

Before he had a chance, he felt strong hands grab him from behind, pulling him back. The person holding him back pulled so hard that they ripped him off of Mulciber and held them tight to their own body. Sirius whipped his head from side to side to see who was doing this to him but could catch a glimpse. He fought and struggled against them, trying desperately to get to the prick in front of him, but their arms had snaked below his own and wrapped tightly around his chest.

“Calm down Padfoot! Calm down!” the voice of his protector came. Sirius froze, he stopped struggling immediately. ‘James?’ he prayed. He panted in an attempt to regain his composure and let himself relax in James’ arms.  
“What on earth do you boys think you are doing?!” McGonagall yelled. She was flustered and irritated but had a small flicker of concern in her eyes when looking to Sirius. He looked at her with determination,  
“He- “  
“Nothing, Professor.” James interrupted, still holding onto Sirius. Mulciber was still lying on the floor, the idiot. He clothes and hair were rumpled from the scuffle, but his face was a picture. He looked genuinely shocked at the animalistic nature of Sirius’ attack. Hexes and jinxes were commonplace between them, but nothing had ever stirred Sirius’ emotions up enough for him to resort to such primal behaviour.

The class was silent as they watched McGonagall to see what her reaction would be.  
“Mulciber, get up you blithering idiot. Wipe that silly look off your face, you’re perfectly unharmed,” she snapped. There were hushed giggles from the crowd that had gathered and Mulciber’s face went as red as a baboon’s arse. If Sirius hadn’t been in such a state, he’d have been rolling around on the floor in fits of laughter.  
“James, please escort Sirius out of the classroom,” she ordered. Her demand was calculated and smart, she knew that the two needed to talk. “The two of you are excused for the rest of the class, take your things and go back to the common room.” She turned her attention away from the two and addressed the rest of the class. “Nothing more to see here children, you’ve had your excitement for the day. Please draw your attention to page…” she began her lesson.

James and Sirius were both as still as statues for a moment, but eventually James’ grip on Sirius was released, and he cleared his throat. He went to collect his bag and threw an apologetic glance to Remus, Lily and Peter. He wavered as he looked at Remus, and Remus returned this with a small smile and a nod. James forced a sad smile back and strode back to Sirius.  
“Come on,” he grunted. His voice was less cutting than before, like he had exhausted himself from trying to stay angry. Sirius supposed that it was so polar to James’ normal attitude to life, that it really must have exhausted him.

Sirius grabbed his bag too, and they walked back to the common room in silence.  
“Canem muta,” James spat. Sirius blushed at the new password but said nothing. The common room was empty given that they were back before the end of lessons. James let his book bag fall from his shoulder and plonked himself down in his favourite armchair in front of the fire. Sirius hung back, standing awkwardly, fiddling with the strap on his bag.  
“James- “he started, quiet and hesitant. James cut him off.  
“Are you okay?” he asked, without looking in Sirius’ direction. Sirius was confused and couldn’t reply. He didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know if James was being sarcastic maybe. His silence stretched on and James eventually turned to look at him. Sirius swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to meet his eyes. He couldn’t. They flicked between James and the fireplace. James sighed and stood up, taking a few steps towards Sirius.

Sirius didn’t feel intimidated like he had last time James made a move towards him; the energy has shifted since then. James had his hands tucked away in his pockets and kept his eyes soft. They never left Sirius’ face despite the fact that Sirius’ own gaze was jumping away from James’ constantly. He stopped, about an arm’s length from Sirius.  
“Are you okay?” he asked him again. His voice had a note of exasperation in, but it was not aimed at Sirius. It was more like he was annoyed at himself, like he was tired of being angry at his best friend, despite his behaviour. Not only that, but the question was genuine. He was concerned for his friend. He was showing him compassion and overlooking the horrific things he had done to check that he was okay. Sirius couldn’t take it. 

The first sob startled him a bit, he wasn’t expecting it. It shook his whole body and forced its way out of him. He was so relieved that his best friend was talking to him, that he crumbled. He covered his face with his hands and let his body shake as he wept. James put a hand on his back and guided him to the armchair. Sirius fell back into it and curled over, resting his face in his hands and his hands on his knees. James sat on the low coffee table in front of the chair, so that he could face his friend and stay near to him. He stroked his hair down softly and muttered, “Okay Pads, okay.” James stayed with him while he broke down and tried to regain his composure.

After what felt like a lifetime, the crying became subdued and Sirius was left sniffling as he raised his face from his hands. His eyes were bloodshot, and his face was blotchy, but he had maintained as much of his composure as possible. He looked at James, and forced himself to keep eye contact this time,  
“I’m sorry James, I really am. I know that words won’t fix what I’ve done, but I need to start somewhere.” Sirius began and James kept his mouth shut. It seemed that he had decided with himself that he would hear Sirius out, and Sirius couldn’t love him any more for that.  
“I know what I did was irreparable, I know that none of the Marauders will ever fully trust me again. I would do anything to take it back,” he drew a breath to steady himself, and then he continued. “I’ve broken your trust and I don’t expect that I’ll be able to earn it back. I know I have ruined our friendship. I’m not stupid enough to think that I’ll be part of the group again after this. I’m not stupid enough to imagine that you will all just forgive me, and we’ll go back to ‘business as usual’ as the Marauders.” He felt his voice waver and cursed himself. He needed to get through this. He took a second to gather himself and continued.

“But what I need to happen is for you to believe me when I say that I am sorry. I will never be able to make it up to you, but I will try with everything that I have to earn my forgiveness, if you decide to give me the opportunity. I need you to know that I am sorry, even if you choose to not accept my apology.” James looked at Sirius with soft eyes but a furrowed brow. He was so torn, Sirius could tell. He wanted to forgive Sirius, but his betrayal was abhorrent. James looked at Sirius now, and saw the pain in his friend’s eyes. He saw the regret and the desperation and the fear. Sirius never knew love before the Marauders, and he was resigned to loosing that now. James winced at that thought, the pain that Sirius was experiencing caused him pain too. But the pain Sirius caused Remus also caused James pain. He was so conflicted. He sat in silence for a moment, trying to form rational thought amongst all the confusion whirling around in his head. He leant back a little and took a deep breath of his own.

“You’re right, you messed up,” he paused, observing Sirius’ look of resignation. “You have hurt Remus so much Sirius, and I can’t forgive you on his behalf.” James lent forward and tousled his wild hair and released a pained breath. “I know you’re sorry, I really do. But you’re right when you say we can’t just return to normal. We’re all hurting, and we all need time to recover from this. You need to think about how you’re going to make it up to Remus.” James said. Sirius was nodding in agreement to everything he said, his shoulders slumped low in shame. “But mate, you’re never going to lose me,” his tone had shifted, and Sirius sat up straight in hope. Surely James wasn’t offering him forgiveness already. James offered him a small smile and continued, “You’re an arse hole for doing this, and Merlin I’m still so hurt that you did this, but we’re going to come through this eventually. Like I said, we all need a little time to recover from this. I’m not ready to forgive you yet mate. I think it would be best that between now and the end of term we take some time to heal, huh? Moony is heartbroken, and I need to be at his side,” Sirius nodded vehemently in agreeance with this, he didn’t want to take away anything more from Remus that he already had. He didn’t address the nagging worry in the back of his brain about Regulus’ warning from yesterday. ‘You had better enjoy your last few weeks at Hogwarts, Sirius, because you won’t be returning,’ it replayed over and over. He pushed the thought aside though, and refocused on his best friend sat before him.

“How does that sound? By the time we start next year at Hogwarts we will all have had some time to get passed this and maybe we can begin the healing process.” James laughed out loud then, “I sound like my mum!” Sirius laughed too and replied,  
“That all sounds good Prongs, I think you’re right. I’ll keep my distance until the time is right. The last thing I want to do right now is make anyone feel any more uncomfortable that I already have.” And that was that. James nodded with satisfaction. He stood up to leave but paused and turned back to Sirius.  
“I am sorry,” he said sincerely, gesturing to his eye, “I lost control and I shouldn’t have hit you; I really am sorry.” He was much better at apologies that Sirius. He kept eye contact and spoke with earnestness.  
“Don’t worry about it, I’d have hit me too,” he joked. James smiled and with that left the room. Sirius lifted himself from the chair too and tried to think of where he could go to stay out of people’s way. He decided on the lake again. He foraged around for a new pack of cigarettes in his trunk until he found them, shoved them into his pocket and made his way to there.

………………………………….

Over the next two weeks, Sirius spent a lot of time by the lake. He tried to spend as much time out of the dorm room as possible, to avoid upsetting Remus further. As much as he longed to explain himself and to hold him close, he knew what James had said was right. He had to give him space until he was ready to talk. The days dragged on and before he knew it there were only two days left of term. The time had slipped away from Sirius and the panic about returning home had resurfaced. He hated going home at the best of times, but this time things were so much more daunting. He knew he would not be getting any letters from his friends during the summer, which were always a welcome respite from the monotony and terror of being in Grimmauld Place. He also had the terrifying message from Regulus to ponder over. He replayed their conversation on repeat in his head. He tried to convince himself that he had misunderstood Regulus, but how could he have? Sirius also knew that this time, the countdown to returning to Hogwarts that so often kept him going, may be fruitless. If Regulus was being truthful, would he be able to escape his family home to get back to Hogwarts? Or would he be kept there indefinitely? Any one of these thoughts were enough to panic Sirius at the best of times, but the combination of them terrified him, and made his stomach flip whenever he thought about them.

He was deep into these thoughts on his penultimate night of term, while packing his bags. He didn’t hear the other person enter the dorm room, not until the door was slammed shut with undisputed force. Sirius jumped up from his bent position he had taken to fold his clothes and whipped around in fright at the sudden noise. Remus was there, facing him with a look of pain and indignation. Sirius was frozen, eyes wide as he stared into Remus’. He kept his mouth shut; he didn’t want to say anything in case he screwed things up further.

“So that’s it is it?” Remus bit, looking at Sirius’ trunk with rage. Sirius had to turn his head to see what Remus was looking at and turned back to Remus, a little confused. “You’re leaving for summer without even attempting to say anything to me?” Sirius stood dumbfounded and shook his head quickly. His hands found each other and began wringing, as had become his new nervous tick.

“You’ve ignored me all this time. You’ve not offered an explanation, an apology, not even a conversation. You’ve avoided me at all costs.” Remus looked him up and down and finally settled his glare firmly on Sirius’ own eyes. The rage faltered, and the pain appeared.

“Do you really hate me that much?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has left me lovely feedback and kudos! Please keep letting me know what you think about this work in the comments :D


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back to Remus' POV here, and we start to understand how he is feeling about seeing Sirius after the 'prank'.
> 
> TW: There is very brief mention of injury here, some angst from Remus and a moment of unwanted touching, but certainly not graphic at all. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Seeing Sirius for the first time after the moon was harder than Remus had expected. His emotions were unclear, flashes of anger switched to pity in seconds when he saw Sirius in the great hall that morning. Thanks to James though, he didn’t need to worry; his friend had his back. Sirius reluctantly obeyed James’ orders and left them to their breakfast. As he slunk away defeated, Remus could help the feeling of unease that rose within him. Sirius was struggling, that much was clear, but then he had no one to blame but himself.

He forced this to the back of his mind and justified his anger; he was the one who had been betrayed and he was the one who was suffering from Sirius’ mistakes.

Remus followed James to the Gryffindor table, where he tried to distract Remus from the stares and whispers. Not only had the inseparable Marauders just had a pretty fierce altercation in front of everyone, but Remus had appeared to breakfast with his fresh new scars, so he was hardly surprised by the attention. Even though he had expected it, that made it no less unsettling. He hated having eyes on him, even for good reasons. ‘This whole situation is bad enough, without the whole bloody school watching me,’ he thought bitterly. He tried to focus on the nonsense that James was spewing, clearly meant to distract him from everything.

“It’s simple really isn’t it, a bit more inclusive too!” Remus had no idea what James was on about but nodded convincingly as he shoveled sausages and scrambled eggs onto his plate. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the food that they serve at Hogwarts, but would it kill them to serve some different cuisines from time to time? I’m sure my grandmother would be more than happy to give them her mansoor dal tadka recipe,” James said seriously, buttering his toast. Remus lowered his glass of pumpkin juice from his mouth and looked over to James with a beaming smile. James paused, looking at Remus quizzically, almost a little nervous at Remus’ happiness. The bemused look on his face was too much for Remus and he snorted in laughter, the pumpkin juice that he hadn’t managed to swallow in time shot out through his nose and Remus spluttered and coughed and laughed.

James slammed his hands down on the table as the first laugh escaped his lips. Within seconds he was howling so loudly and idiotically that the whole hall was chuckling along with him. Apart from the Slytherins of course, who scowled at the display of joy with contempt. The two boys tried to compose themselves, but every time they got close to calming themselves down, they would catch each other’s eyes and their laughing fit would start all over again. It felt good, Remus realised, and he allowed himself to revel in this happiness with his friend. Eventually they did manage to contain themselves and looked at each other as they wiped the tears from their eyes.

“I don’t tell you this enough, but you are such an amazing friend James, I love ya mate,” Remus said quietly but quite sincerely. He rarely expressed direct displays of emotion and preferred to keep his cards close to his chest. More often than not, if things were getting too ‘mushy’, he would resort to sarcasm rather than outwardly expressing his own feelings. But he was too overcome with James’ comradery that he couldn’t hide it today. Who knew that all it would take for Remus to confess his undying platonic love to James Potter would be his concerned ramblings about ethnically diverse foods?

James looked back to Remus and comically clutched his hands to his heart and pretended to faint.  
“Oh, Moony, I never knew you felt this way!” he yelled for all to hear. Remus’ ears were going red, he could feel it, but for once he didn’t mind. “Come on then lover boy, let’s go and find a quiet corner to make out in,” James teased, absolutely loving the attention he was getting from his giggling peers. Even Remus was shaking his head with a bashful smile on his face, trying to keep his own sniggers contained.

“Oh, can I come,” a voice came from behind James, with a teasing tone of their own. Lily was staring right across the table, meeting Remus’ eyes, with one eyebrow cocked and a playful smile on her lips as she joined in with the lighthearted teasing. James leapt up from the bench, his cocky smile gone and his face now imitating some kind of confused infant.

“Lily!” he shouted, startling her a little. He realised and lowered his voice. “I mean, yeah i-i-if you want…if you want to we can go and talk somewhere- I mean…we could-“his hand had reached up awkwardly to scratch the back of his neck and was now working its way through his mane of wild hair, seemingly having a mind of its own. Lily put him out of his misery once she had heard him trip over his own words a few times.  
“I’m joking Potter, chill,” she smirked at him, which was more friendly than normal, Remus realised.  
“Yeah.” James muttered, gesturing to the seat next to him for Lily to sit down, “Yeah, ha, I knew that I- I was joking too!” he managed to stutter out with absolutely no conviction. Remus snorted and James threw him a look that screamed ‘shut up or I will end you, Moony’.

Lily caught Remus’ eye and rolled hers back dramatically, but she had a glimmer of fondness towards James this morning. It made Remus very happy indeed, but he was certain that James hadn’t observed the change himself. Lily’s expression changed after a second, as she took in Remus’ new scars. She traced the line with concerned eyes, crossing over his face, from his eye to the opposite cheek, and then her gaze fell to his neck, where three clear tears lay. If it were anyone else he would feel judged, he would let his head hang low and pull his shirt collar up higher to try and hide the mutilations, but he knew that Lily was just assessing them, and certainly not judging them. She offered him her hand over the table and he self-consciously took it. She gave it a light squeeze and a kind smile.  
“Do you want to talk about it?” she offered. 

He looked at her and actually really longed to talk to her about his lycanthropy. He thought she would understand, and that she would be a good shoulder to cry on when he needed to. She was one of his closest friends and he loved her very much. But he was scared that if he told her, her opinion of him would change. She was so loving and kind that this seemed unlikely, but he didn’t want to take the risk. He swallowed his feelings down hard and looked back to her, his firm stare meeting her own.

“Yeah,” he started. He saw James wiggle in his seat nervously, but he pushed on. “I would steer clear of the west corridor on the third-floor if I were you. Nasty business up there at the moment. Got right in the middle of a fight between a dragon and a lion, didn’t we James?” James snorted at him, but eyed Lily nervously. She let go of Remus’ hand and smacked him good-naturedly on his arm.  
“It’s a good job I like you, you arse!” she laughed. She didn’t push him any further, and he appreciated that. He would explain it to her one day, he promised.

The three continued their small talk over breakfast until Peter came running down the aisle. “James! Remus!” he yelled, out of breath by the time he had reached them. “I wasn’t allowed in to see you! Are you okay? What happened?!” He hardly managed to get the words out between he gulps for air.  
“We’re fine Wormy, no need to panic. We’ll fill you in later, aye?” James said coolly. Peter glanced at James and then to Lily, seeming to understand what James was hinting at. He nodded wordlessly, still trying to regain his composure. He sat down and shoveled as much breakfast into his mouth as he could before they had to leave for lessons. The four walked together and Lily and Remus fell into step next to each other. Their arms brushed as they walked, and Remus leant down closer to Lily and whispered,  
“Would you sit next to me in class today Lils? I-I have had a bit of a falling out with Sirius and...and I’d rather not have him near me. If you sat there, then we wouldn’t need to talk about it either,” he hoped that she didn’t question him and just agreed. He looked to her face and caught the slight blush creeping over her nose and cheeks. He gnawed at his lip in worry. Did she fancy Sirius? Half the girls in the school did, so it really wouldn’t be the biggest shock.

And Remus understood that too. The chiseled jawline, the high cheekbones. He was tall and lean and sculpted. His hair seemed to flow effortlessly into the most perfect waves. But his confidence and demeanor were the most appealing parts of Sirius. You fancied him for his looks, but who he was as a person made you fall in love. So, was Remus making Lily uncomfortable by asking her to do this? She hadn’t said anything, so he assumed so. He tried to backtrack quickly.

“It’s totally fine if you don’t want to! I know you normally sit with Mary or Marlene, so I won’t be offended if you- “  
“No, no!” she cut across him, looking up at him smiling now. “No, of course I’ll sit next to you Remus! We work well together anyway,” she said bashfully, hugging her books tight to her chest. He swung his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in a little closer for a brief hug, and she cwtched in close. He had to let go before he wanted to though, the position made it difficult to walk on his injured leg. Lily seemed to notice the limp and offered to carry his books. She really was a star.

When the got to class, Lily sat next to Remus and James sat eagerly next to Lily. He wasn’t trying too hard with Lily today, Remus noticed, and was letting her look after Remus. ‘Maybe this would work in James’ favour,’ Remus thought. Lily was chatting away animatedly when Sirius entered the class. He saw Lily sat in his regular seat and the colour drained from his face. His shoulders sagged so much that his book bag slid off the shoulder it had been balanced on. It pained Remus to look at him. The devastation in his face was genuine. Not only did he look so emotionally battered, but his face was a canvas painted with pain. His eye was swollen and bruised and bloody; it looked so sore. Remus wished he would just get it healed. He had deep, dark bags under his eyes from a lack of sleep and his eyes were red and bloodshot. He wasn’t taking care of himself either, from the look of his hair and clothes. Sirius kept his eyes fixed on the floor as he shuffled over to a free seat on its own at the back of the class. Remus had to look away.

Lily noticed the scene unfolding in front of her and slipped her hand into Remus’ under the table. He was very grateful for this and thanked her with an affectionate smile. Professor Binns came in and began the lesson, mind-numbingly boring as usual. It was a welcome distraction for Remus though, who tried to take as many notes on the Gargoyle Strike of 1911 as possible. Throughout the class, the thought of Sirius became too much on occasions and Remus had to try and steal another look. His tangled hair hung in front of his face as he sat alone, making no attempts at writing down anything. Remus sighed in exasperation and returned to his studying. ‘Why are you worrying about him,’ he cursed himself. ‘He did this! He should be feeling sorry for you, not the other way around!’ Remus decided enough was enough. He promised himself that he would not be pitying Sirius Black anymore. The sympathy inside of him seemed to instantly dissipate and was replaced by a fiery resolve. Sirius owed him an apology, and until he got one, he would waste no more of his time worrying about the pity party that Sirius was throwing himself.

……………………………………………

The last lesson of the day came as a relief to Remus, he had had enough of trying to ignore Sirius while he sat in the same room as him. His leg ached and he just wanted to sit alone and zone out. ‘Maybe the prefect’s bathroom would be a good place to unwind,’ he thought. Remus took a seat in Professor McGonagall’s classroom while Peter yapped his ear off about his upcoming summer holidays.

“We’re going to the Pettigrew family estate in Bordeaux,” he bragged. Remus smiled at him, happy that his friend would be occupied for the summer. He supposed maybe he and his parents would venture to Pembrokeshire for a long weekend at some point, but certainly nothing as ostentatious as a family estate. Not that he was complaining, he loved his family trips and with his mum, Hope, being a muggle, they often stayed in a caravan, just a stone’s throw from the beach. It was simple and modest and perfect.

Remus was deep in thought of the Welsh coastline when he was brought back to the present by Mulciber. The oafish boy was provoking someone, his tone cutting, and his words backed up by an irritating snickering from Snape. Remus and James turned around to establish what was going on when they realise that it was Sirius at the receiving end of Mulciber’s taunts. Remus could see that he was resigned, that his normal defenses had been lowered and he was just…taking the abuse. Mulciber pushed on, seemingly irritated that Sirius hasn’t given him the reaction that he was looking for. There was a flash of excitement in Mulciber’s eyes, like he knew what he was about to say was going to cut deep.

“It took you long enough, but you’ve done it. No more dirty half-bloods, blood-traitor filth or mudblood scum in your company ay? You really are readying yourself for the war aren’t you.” What happened next was a blur. Sirius was up in a flash and was rolling around with Mulciber beneath him before Remus could register what was going on. Before anyone else could react, James had also jumped from his seat, trying to wrangle Sirius off of the bully beneath him. His quick reflexes that were so evident in his quidditch abilities clearly came in handy here. He heaved Sirius off Mulciber, with his fists still swinging, trying to connect with Mulciber’s face. Remus just stood by and let James handle the situation, what more could he have possibly done to help?

“Calm down Padfoot! Calm down!” James yelled, and Sirius reacted instantly. Remus saw his body relax, his resistance slowed, and he obeyed James’ directions. James didn’t let go but kept held of Sirius close to his chest to keep him safe and calm. Remus watched as Sirius leant back into the safety of his friend, acting as if it was the embrace he had been waiting for. Remus, pained at the sight of Sirius’ behaviour, tore his eyes away, looking to Mulciber instead. He looked like a prat and Remus had to grit his teeth to not snicker at the look of absolute shock plastered all over his brutish face.

McGonagall appeared, as if right on cue, and sent James and Sirius away. In a way, Remus was relieved. He knew Sirius needed to talk to someone, that much was clear. He knew that he couldn’t be the confidant at the moment, he was not yet ready to engage with Sirius. But James and Sirius were like brothers. He hoped that now they had an opportunity to talk, now that the ice had been broken, that James would let his guard down a little. He hoped that he would allow Sirius to talk to him, because Merlin knows he needed it. It would help that they were alone too; James was still too protective of Remus when he was around. Remus couldn’t help but to let out an exasperated laugh at the state of the situation that they found themselves in.

……………………………………………

At the end of the lesson, Remus knew that he wasn’t ready to go back to the dorm. Chances were that James and Sirius were still talking, and the last thing he needed was to be privy to that conversation.  
“I’m going to head to the library,” he decided out loud.  
“Perfect, I’ll come with you…i-if you don’t mind?” Lily stuttered.  
“Of course not, I’d be happy for the company,” Remus smiled at her.  
“I thought you might have had enough of me for one day,” she said nervously, but Remus shut her up with a laugh.  
“I couldn’t have enough of you in a lifetime Miss Evans,” he said softly. He was really, genuinely happy that she was coming with him. They started their potions homework together and spoke amicably back and forth, discussing their ideas and thoughts on the work.

“Oh, I’ve got it!” she exclaimed, “We need to figure out the one ingredient that will transform the state of alchemy...” she paused for thought.  
“You’re on to something here,” Remus said, his own mind racing through the last year’s work. They both gasped at the same time, reaching the conclusion together.  
“Golpalott’s Third Law! Yes!” They beamed at each other, delighted that they agreed.  
“I saw a book about this the other day, let me go and find it! I might be a minute though, it was in the restricted section,” she was gone before he could comment.

He began making notes about everything he could remember from Slughorn’s lessons on some spare parchment, deep in concentration when he felt the shadow loom over him. He rose his head to chastise the person for blocking his light but was stunned into silence to see Snape stood there silently, alone and staring at him.

Remus faltered, the shock getting the better of him. He shrunk back into himself, any happiness that he allowed himself to feel that day was slinking away. He was reminded instantly of the monster that he was, the monster that Snape had seen. Snape seemed to be enjoying the discomfort he was causing by his mere presence. The tell-tale signs of a smile crept onto his lips when he saw Lupin cower beneath his gaze.

“I always knew there was something wrong with you, Lupin. I feel stupid that I didn’t guess sooner to be honest. The signs were all there weren’t they,” Snape sat in the chair next to Remus, pulling it as close as he could to the trembling boy, knees almost touching. Remus hated being in close proximity to most people at the best of times, but the uneasiness that this was causing him was horrific. He held his breath, praying that this would be over soon, whatever this was.

“The way you would visit the hospital so often, the unexplained injuries and scars,” Snape raised a finger to trace Remus’ newest scar. He pushed himself as far back into his chair as possible, hoping it would swallow him up. He couldn’t get any further away from Snape, but he showed no signs of altering his course. Remus couldn’t fight back, he never had been able to, to be honest. James and Sirius had always been here before, they had always made sure that he didn’t have to fight back. But he was alone now, and Severus’ hand reached its mark. He touched the top of Remus’ scar, and followed it all the way down to the end on the opposite cheek, stroking his skin all the way down. It wasn’t painful; it was gentle. But it was the most aggressive thing that had ever been done to Remus. 

He sat frozen, rigid in his seat, staring into Snape’s face. His look was malicious; he knew he had undisputed power over Remus right now. He knew Remus wouldn’t dare fight him, for fear that he would tell everyone about what he saw. About the monster that was Remus Lupin.

Snape removed his hand from Remus’ face with a satisfied look on his face. Remus kept as still as he could, he didn’t dare to move a muscle. Snape was still sat unbearably close to him, his one knee now between Remus’ own from where he had leant forward to touch his scar. Severus stared at the boy before him, hungrily, looking him up and down, taking in his fear. He was enjoying it, getting the weak one on his own. He knew that he could do what he wanted, now that he had this information to lord over him.

“You always look so sick too, so pitiful and weak,” he taunted. Remus flinched visibly at this. He had always worried that this was the case, despite his friends insisting that it wasn’t true. It was like Snape had reached into Remus’ soul, dug around and was pulling on his greatest insecurities.

“Not that you looked weak the other night though, Lupin. No, quite the opposite. I’ve never seen anything quite so…formidable. You could have wiped out half the students in this school, had you gotten loose.” Snape teased, his voice was sickly sweet. Remus was sweating now; he could feel it. The small beads were forming on his forehead, threatening to drip down. His breath was coming in small, desperate pants now; he was worryingly close to loosing his ‘cool’.  
“You know that don’t you? You know how dangerous you would be if you had escaped? Imagine the trail of devastation you would leave in your wake. The torn up, mutilated bodies of your friends, your peers, your teachers even? Yet you choose to stay here, and to put them all at risk…that says a lot about you, Lupin.” Snape had hit a home run with this one, and he knew it. He slapped his hand down onto Remus’ leg, just above the knee, and squeezed tight, a smarmy, smug smile lighting up his face.

“N-n-no…” Remus struggled.  
“Uh, y-y-yes,” Severus mocked, with a disgustingly light, hearty tone. He was enjoying himself. Remus couldn’t try to speak again, he was defeated. He looked down to Snape’s hand still clutching his leg and shifted in his seat, trying to worm away from it. Snape seemed to like that, and tightened his grip so that his fingertips turned white from the pressure. Remus had no chance, there was nowhere to go, and Snape knew it. It was like a cat toying with a mouse. It was pitiful, Remus realised, just like Snape had said.

“Ha,” Snape laughed humorlessly, letting go of Remus’ leg at long last and leaning back in his chair with a confidence Remus hadn’t seen in him before. He really was having the time of his life. Remus tried to suck in a deep breath while he could, but his chest was heavy and would only allow a strained, strangled breath to enter his lungs.  
“Sirius has seen you as a wolf before, yes?” Snape asked. Remus was petrified; where was this going? He looked up through his eyelashes at Snape but said nothing. He couldn’t.

“I’ll take that as a yes then,” he sighed. He leaned forward again leaning right in close to Remus’ face. They were inches apart. Remus would have given anything, anything, to be able to make his body move, to force himself out of this chair and to run away and hide. But his body betrayed him and kept him frozen in fear. He met Snape’s eyes and saw the excitement glint. He held his breath again, for the blow he knew was about to come.

“It explains a lot really, if he has seen you in that state. No wonder he wants to get rid of you,” his voice was barely above a whisper. Remus drew a sharp intake of breath and his face scrunched up in confusion.  
“W-w-what?” he struggled to get out, his voice cracked and trembled. ‘Embarrassing,’ he thought.  
“Well, think about it, why else would he have sent me there? He knew that if I got to you, you’d kill me in a heartbeat while transformed. I’d be killed and you’d be expelled, arrested even. Two birds with one stone, I think the saying goes.” Snape studied Remus’ face. He watched as the ‘truth’ of his statement settled in Remus’ head, how he ate it all up without question. His hatred of himself worked to Snape’s benefit.

“You’ve always been the odd one out in that Marauders group of yours, haven’t you? The only non-pureblood. The quiet one, the…” Snape looked him up and down, hungrily. Remus’ stomach churned. ‘Does he know?’ he panicked. Snape had already uncovered one of his biggest secrets, he would be unbearable if he knew the other. No one in the world knew about the other one, he’d never told a soul!  
“…well, let’s just say, the different one.” Snape finished, with a teasing smile. “You were never truly accepted there, Lupin, and Black wanted you gone. Too bad he failed, huh?” Snape’s face was still dangerously close to Remus’, and he wanted this to be over. Snape drew his breath to speak again, and Remus cried inside.  
“His hatred is clear, and if I were you I-“ Snape was cut off by a shrill voice.

“Get away from him!” Lily roared, grabbing hold of Snape’s robes and yanking him away. She dropped the pile of books that she was carrying and used her other hand to strengthen her hold on Snape. Lily’s strength seemed to shock even her. Snape was out of his chair in an instant, looking between Lily and Remus. He looked remorseful now, like he had been woken up by Lily’s glare of abhorrence.

“I…” now it was his turn to stutter. He looked to his feet. “I was just talking to Lupin. I need to speak to you too- “Lily cut him off for a second time.  
“No, you weren’t, you were harassing him. Does it look like he wants to talk to you right now?” she spat. “As for me,” she continued, “You have lost that right. Now leave us alone.”  
“But Lily- “  
“I said leave. Us. Alone.” Snape didn’t dare argue with her; he turned and left, his tail between his legs. Lily turned to Remus, who was staring at her, eyes wide and chest heaving. She knelt down in front of him, resting her hands on his knees so that she could meet his eyes. His mind rushed back to Snape holding him there, and he needed to get away. Lily’s mouth was moving but he couldn’t hear a word she said.

“I have to go,” he whispered. He leapt from his chair and gathered his things. He scrunched up his parchment rather than folding it fastidiously as he normally did, grabbed his books and all but ran back to his dorm room. He threw everything down on his bed and locked himself in the bathroom. His clothes were thrown off and he bundled himself into the shower. His legs finally gave way, and he sat there, alone in the shower, sobbing into his hands.

……………………………………

The following days flew by in a blur. Remus spent most nights tossing and turning in his bed; Snape’s words had cut deep. He didn’t want to speak to Sirius for a few days following the event, but he expected Sirius to try to talk to him. James told him that he’d suggested that Sirius give them all some space, which Remus appreciated. He needed time to calm down, and to process what had happened. He knew that nothing positive would come from a conversation between them in those early days. But as the summer holidays drew closer, Remus started to panic. Sirius had still not tried to speak to him. Frankly, it seemed like his was avoiding him completely. He was never in the dorm room apart from when he was sleeping and even then, he put a silencing spell around his bed.

Remus tried to tell himself that Snape was liar, and that he had tormented him with what he had said in the library. But the longer time went on, the less able he was to believe that; Snape must have been telling the truth. Maybe Sirius really did want Remus gone from his life. It would certainly explain this behaviour. James knew something was wrong with Remus, but just assumed it was due to the ‘prank’. He tried his best to keep Remus’ mind occupied, asking him to join him for flying practice or even offered to accompany him to the library to do homework together. Remus often agreed, mainly just to let James know that he appreciated all of his effort. Peter helped too; he had a new chess set that Christmas that he only got out on special occasions, but he had offered Remus many games on this board to quell his anguish.

Lily too had been a lifesaver. She knew more than the boys after seeing him upset in the library after Snape’s confrontation. She refused to let him go anywhere alone. She was like a guard dog. A loyal, yappy chihuahua guard dog.

It was the penultimate day of term when it all got too much for Remus. He couldn’t hold it in any longer. He needed to speak to Sirius. He set himself up in the common room, in a cozy seat in the far corner. The armchair was large enough that if he curled up tightly, he wouldn’t be seen by people entering through the Fat Lady’s portrait. He tried to act natural, he even brought a book with him as a cover story. He waited for hours for Sirius to come back; he had been AWOL again today. He slunk into the common room earlier than Remus had expected, around an hour before curfew. Usually, he came in mere minutes before he needed to be.

As was usual for Sirius these days, his head was hung down low and his hands were shoved into his pockets. It looked like he had lost a lot of weight in the past two weeks, Remus realised. He pushed this thought aside and watched Sirius climb the stairs to the dorm room. He left it a minute or two before he followed him. He rambled off a nonsense excuse to Lily about checking if he had done a certain piece of transfiguration homework and scurried off to his room. His heart was pounding as he took the stairs. He knew that this is what he wanted, no, what he needed to do, but now that the time was here for the conversation, he was scared. He didn’t want Snape’s words to be true, but he needed to know, one way or the other.

As he got to the room, he hung around in the doorway for a second. Sirius stood with his back to Remus, clearly in a world of his own. He was folding clothes, in an awkward, hunched over position. His trunk was open, ready for them to be packed inside. This image, as harmless as it would seem to anyone else, was the last straw for Remus. He saw red. Sirius was happy to sit here and pack away his life at Hogwarts for the next two months, without even offering Remus a conversation! Sirius was happy to leave him, to abandon him in this state, the state that he had caused!

Blinded by anger, Remus knew he was ready now. Ready to find out what the hell Sirius thought he was playing at. He clambered through the doorway, slamming the door firmly behind him. Sirius shot up, startled by the noise. He span to face Remus, his eyes wide in fear as he looked at him. Remus had no doubt that the expression he wore was worth the fear; he was livid in this moment.

“So that’s it is it?” he snapped, glaring at Sirius’ trunk. Sirius did a double take between Remus and the trunk, trying to put two and two together. He looked puzzled, so Remus continued, to make his point. “You’re leaving for the summer without attempting to say anything to me?” The look on Sirius’ face was pathetic. He shook his head from side to side, like he was trying to shake his hair dry after a shower. His hands twitched as they held each other. Remus was making him nervous. ‘Good,’ he thought.

“You’ve ignored me all this time. You’ve not offered an explanation, an apology, not even a conversation.” Remus felt his resolve slip a little as his own woeful feeling of rejection came bubbling to the surface. He looked at Sirius stood in front of him, the iridescent light that once shone from him was gone. The joy and sunny warmth that he brought to any room he entered had vanished. He was a shell of his former self. Remus lifted his gaze to Sirius’ own, his vision swimming.

The boy before him was broken, but so was he. Remus needed answers, so he begged:

“Do you really hate me that much?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading everyone. 
> 
> 'Cwtch' is an affectionate term from the Welsh language meaning hug, but like a genuine kind hug :D I imagine Remus to be Welsh, so wanted to bring that in here. Pembrokeshire is also in Wales and is personally one of my favourite places. The scene where Harry buries Dobby in the Deathly Hallows is a on a beach in Pembrokeshire. 
> 
> I am so thankful for all of your support, so please leave a message below in the comments if you can :D


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry this chapter upload wasn't as quick as the previous ones, I've a lot of extra work on my plate at the moment! As a result it's not quite as long as the others but I wanted to get something out to you :D 
> 
> This chapter is focusing on Sirius' experience. I hope you enjoy!

“Do you really hate me that much?”

Sirius heard Remus’ voice break as he asked him that question. His world stopped spinning for a moment and his head felt foggy. How do you process information like this? How could Sirius even begin to tell Remus how wronghe was? Sirius knew then and there that he had done more damage that he would ever comprehend. He realised how much his thoughtless actions had broken the boy in front of him.

His mouth was dry and his eyes wide; he couldn’t grasp what Remus was asking. ‘How could Remus think this?’ he thought, Lily’s muggle phrase came to mind; actions speak louder than words. Sirius might have thought the world of Remus, but his actions said something very different.

He felt the colour leave his face as he came to this realisation. How did he tell Remus how wrong he was without revealing…without admitting his true feelings? He’d hidden part of himself away for so long he didn’t know how to explain it to himself, let alone to Remus, of all people. He was always afraid that if he admitted it then he would ruin what they had; he’d ruin their friendship. Not that there was much left to ruin now, of course.

Sirius stopped playing with his hands finally and instead he folded his arms over his chest, sticking his hands firmly under the opposite armpit, in an attempt to make himself disappear. He was looking down at the floor, where he observed his feet shuffling awkwardly, as his nervous energy continued to redistribute his weight. He shook his head firmly while still looking down at the floor, almost in disbelief. ‘Pull yourself together, Black,’ he cursed at himself. The voice in his head was as curt and as sharp as his mother’s, and the likeness scared him.

He forced his head up, to look at his friend. The pain in Remus face was so abundant, and the shame in Sirius’ heart was so heavy. Remus’ eyes were swimming, but his forehead was creased. He was not one to become overly expressive, so Sirius knew that he would feel ashamed to be showing ‘weakness’ by being emotional. His jaw was clenched tightly, like he was trying to control himself, but the rawness in his eyes was too clear to be countered by anything else. Sirius felt his stomach drop for the hundredth time knowing that he was responsible for this. He owed Remus and explanation. He opened his mouth to offer it, but the words caught in his throat, his mouth was as dry as the desert. He closed it again, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed hard. He opened his mouth to try again and forced the words out this time.

“R-Remus I…” Sirius urged himself to pull it together. Remus’ eyes had widened at the sound of his voice, like the desperation was taking over. Sirius’ hands were shaking under his armpits and he was relieved that he had tucked them away so that Remus didn’t have to look at his pitifulness. He took a deep breath and continued.

“I-I…Of course I don’t hate you Remus.” He felt braver now after managing to get out a sentence, and the look of relief that flooded Remus’ face brought him hope too.

“I know what I did was beyond disgusting, but…well I-I don’t have a ‘but’. T-There is no excuse for what I d-did.” Remus was looking at Sirius with a strange expression, he couldn’t place it. His face had hardened slightly, which made Sirius nervous, but he kept going.

“I-I did what I did be-because I was angry and thoughtless and re-reckless, and it has nothing to do wi-with the way I feel about you. You’re…” he paused, and Remus looked up, making direct eye contact for the first time since Sirius began speaking. But he couldn’t do it, he could confess his feelings now, that would be wrong, manipulative even. “You’re one of the most special people in my life Moony. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to make it up to you, but I’d love to try, if you’ll let me?” Sirius held his breath as he tried to analyse Remus’ face. His injuries had healed well, but large silver scars now swam over his skin. Sirius knew that Remus would be horrified with the new gash across his face, but Sirius secretly liked it. He shook that thought from his head quickly, now was not the time. Remus’ had a veil of confliction draped over his face; he was clearly torn on what to do and say. He brought one of his shaking hands up and scratched his head, scruffing up his mousey hair. Stray strands of hair fell back down across his forehead and Sirius’ heart beat faster as he watched him; he missed him so much.

Remus’ confliction seemed to vanish in a blink of an eye through. Sirius’ palms began to sweat as he witnessed the change in his friend.

“So, even though you’re so sorry, you’ve not even bothered to try and speak to me for two weeks?” Sirius flinched at the harshness in his voice and the twisted fury on his face. He supposed he couldn’t blame him though; he had a point.

“I mean, I know that James had said we needed some space from you, I agreed for Merlin’s sake! But come one Sirius, you’ve been avoiding me like the plague. You couldn’t have just come and told me once that you were sorry, and we’d speak again when we had both had some time to cool down?” Sirius could tell that Remus was opening the gates, that he had so much emotion locked up inside of him. Sirius knew that Moony was in pain, that he needed to scream and shout at him. He braced himself for a battering, he deserved it.

“I- “he started.  
“No.” Remus said quietly, dangerously. “Shut up. You’ve done enough. You had your chance to come and speak to me. But now it’s my turn.” Remus took a defiant step forward and Sirius instinctively leapt backwards, the back of his legs hitting the edge of his bedframe. He internally panicked, he let his hands fall from under his arms, and grip the edge of the bedframe for stability and tried to keep his breathing even. If Remus noticed the panic, he didn’t acknowledge it, and took another firm step forward to assert his dominance. He was still an arm’s length away from Sirius, but he was in charge. He didn’t need to raise his voice, his whisper held as much power as a roar.

“You knew, Sirius. You knew. I had never told anyone before and I trusted you with my deepest fear and…” Remus faltered, his eyes welling with tears again. He sniffed but acknowledged his tears this time, Sirius noticed. He watched as Remus angrily scrubbed at his eyes with the sleeves of his jumper, wiping them away as quickly as he could.  
“And you used it against me. For what, a prank?” Remus spat. He drew a breath to compose himself, “Did you think it would be funny if I became a murderer? Would you laugh at my sentencing to Azkaban, Sirius?” Remus spat out a humourless laugh. He stopped talking, and Sirius felt his eyes rake up and down his body. He felt his face burn red with shame, but he kept perfectly still.

“N-No R-Remus, of course I w-wouldn’t I-“

“Then why? I thought…” it was Remus’ time to turn red now. He shook his head, but this seemed to be more for his sake than for Sirius’. “I thought we were friends,” he muttered quietly, he sounded almost embarrassed at himself for saying it. Sirius stood in front of his heartbroken friend, pressed against his bedframe, frozen and speechless. What was there to say? Everything Remus had said was right, and Sirius had no defense, and he had no words to take away his pain.

Evidently, Remus was done. He let out a pained sigh, his shoulders slumped in resignation. Seeing that Sirius had nothing to say, he began to turn around and walk towards the door.

Sirius felt his chance for forgiveness slipping away, so managed to pull together enough courage to try one more time.  
“I really am sorry Remus,” Sirius spoke softly. He found it easier to speak when Remus wasn’t looking at him. He seemed to sense this and remained facing the door.  
“I know I don’t deserve forgiveness. I know that I have let you down. I don’t expect you to believe me because I know that actions speak louder than words. And my actions have been...well, disgraceful. But if you let me, I would spend the rest of my life trying to make this up to you. I don’t think I deserve it, and if you never want to speak to me again I- “he choked a little, but tried to hide it with a cough, “I understand, and I won’t blame you.” Sirius debated for a second in his head, but before he had chance to overthink things, he added “I…I love you, mate.”

Remus didn’t move a muscle, and Sirius rubber his arm nervously. He hoped his last statement had sounded casual and brotherly, but now he wasn’t so sure. After what seemed like an eternity, Remus turned around and Sirius felt his stomach lurch. Remus looked…furious.

“You don’t get to say that!” he roared, his calm dominance from early had vanished and he stood raging in front of Sirius now. He charged forward like a bull and grabbed Sirius by the collar of his shirt. Sirius was caught off guard and didn’t get a chance to avoid the attack. Remus pulled him forward and maneuvered his body roughly, slamming him into one of the pillars of his four-poster bed. He felt a rush of air leave his lungs as his back connected with the wooden support; he was left winded and blinded as tears welled up in his eyes.

“You can’t do what you did and then say that! Don’t you understand, don’t you get it? I loved you too Sirius!” Remus’ voice was only getting louder and more desperate as he went on, and finally the tears began to leak from his eyes and fall down his pale face.  
“That’s why this is so hard for me! Why do you think I’m so hurt, why I feel so betrayed? I finally let my guard down with someone, I trust someone for the first time and look at the mess I’m in because of it!” Remus’ breaths were coming in short, distressed bursts now, but Sirius’ had stopped coming all together. He was in shock, the revelations kept on coming and his heart sank each time. He was sure that the look of anguish etched on Remus’ face would be permanently imprinted in his mind.

Remus held onto Sirius tightly, his quivering hands still bunched up in his collar, but he had stopped shouting now. He was allowing the emotion to take over and let himself sob as Sirius looked on, shocked and scared. Remus’ head hung low between his outstretched arms, the tears dripping down onto the carpet. Sirius melted; he wanted nothing more than to take Remus into his arms and make it all better. He raised his own hands up slowly and took hold of Remus’ wrists. He held them gently, and brushed circles on the inside with his thumbs. He didn’t try to push Remus off him, he just held his breath and caressed his soft, pale skin. 

After a few seconds like this, Remus began to soften, letting go of Sirius’ collar and allowing his arms fall back to their resting position beside him. But Sirius didn’t let go of Remus, they stood close together, the atmosphere no longer filled with anger, but instead with love and concern. Remus looked up again, looking into Sirius’ eyes. He seemed to silently grant permission for Sirius to hug him, to pull him close. Sirius tentatively did so, not rushing; he didn’t want to ruin anything. Remus let his head rest on his shoulder as he sobbed and nestled into the crook of Sirius’ neck. He continued to sob, and Sirius’ heart broke. He wrapped his arms tightly around the slim, shaking Moony, thanking Merlin that he’d been given the chance. They stayed like that for a long time, until Remus had run out of tears. Only then did he pull back and sank down to the floor next to Sirius’ bed. Sirius joined him there, and they sat in a difficult silence for a while, until Remus spoke.

“That was a lot- “he was cut off by a snort of laughter that he couldn’t contain. Sirius looked at him and let himself chuckle too and the genuine laugh that his friend emitted. They sat there smiling for a minute or two. Sirius was desperate to speak, but he didn’t know what to say, what if he ruined everything again? Before he had the chance to try to speak, Remus spoke again.

“I’m sorry,” he turned his head and looked over to Padfoot. Sirius was stunned, his mouth agape and a frown appeared on his face.  
“What? What’re you apologizing for?”, genuine confusion in his voice.  
“I didn’t handle that very well, I’m sorry…”  
“No, Moony, please don’t. Everything you said and did, I deserved. I am so, so sorry.” Remus pondered this for a while before he responded.  
“I know. And I’m glad we talked. But I think that James was right, I’m not ready to go back to normal just yet. Maybe…” he seemed nervous suddenly, “Maybe if we do what James said, and see how we feel after the summer? Things will be better then, and we can just forget about it, move on.” He seemed sure of this fact, and Sirius wanted to respect his wishes.  
“Of course, Moony, whatever you want.” The two looked at each other and both offered the other a sad smile.

With that, Remus broke their eye contact, pushed himself up off of the floor and walked towards the door. He paused, only briefly, but then continued out, leaving Sirius alone on the bedroom floor. He smiled slightly, happy with the slight progress he made with Remus. 

He tried not to think about how Remus said he “loved” him too, past tense. He pushed it away, to the back of his mind, where all of his other dark thoughts were hiding. He tried not to think about next year too, and his brother’s menacing threat. Remus and James were both happy with the decision that they would be the Marauders once again after the summer. After they had time to heal. Sirius decided it was best not to worry them with the potentialnews that he may not be at Hogwarts to make that a reality. His mind raced with worry and fear, but for now he turned his attention to his packing.

‘Just fold your jumpers, Sirius, it’ll be okay.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Let me know what you think of this one in the comments if you can :D


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A longer chapter than last time y'all! I hope you enjoy reading this one :)
> 
> TW for child abuse, underage drinking and description of injury.

The final day of term passed in a blur for Sirius. Most of the other students at Hogwarts were glowing with excitement and anticipation to be reunited with their families; Sirius couldn’t say he felt the same. Every year, the feeling of dread grew as the holidays encroached the term time, but this year the anxiety had grown into an fully fledged fear. Sirius tried to keep himself busy all day to push away the sickness he felt, but no matter what he did, he could feel the jitters vibrating through his body and the stickiness of his palms. As he tidied his things away in his dorm, he noticed a few stray books that he had taken from the library tucked away under his bed. He pulled them out, wondering how overdue these ones were. Madam Pince would be pissed. But finding them gave him a small release of relief; he had found something else to do to keep him busy for a while.

He gathered up the books and began his journey to the library. The corridors were rather quiet, which was unusual for Hogwarts. While most students were using this time to pack their trunks, Sirius could see the great lawn was littered with students. It was a beautiful day and those organised ones who had finished their packing (mainly Ravenclaws) were taking full advantage of the summer day and were basking in the glorious sunshine with their friends. Sirius felt a pang of jealousy as he watched them, laid back in the lawn with their shirt sleeves rolled up above their elbows, propped up on their forearms, stretched out in the sun. Numerous groups of four, five, six students were laughing together and chatting animatedly to each other, some jokingly shoving their friends or teasing them. Sirius could stop the smile that crept onto his face as he leant against the pillar, watching the displays of comradery from the window.

The pranks and the sneaking out of the castle was great and all, but that was the best part of the Marauders, the comradery, just being mates. Being by each other’s sides and laughing together, about nothing much in particular. The mundane normality, that he would give anything to be part of now; that’s what he missed the most. 

Sirius was so engrossed by his voyeurism that he didn’t hear the sharp click of high heels approach him until they were a few feet away. He pulled his eyes away from the crowds outside to turn in the direction of the sound, to see who was coming.

“Get your things, the time has come.” The voice was cold and hard and the person who had been approaching him had stopped, arms crossed and mouth a thin line of uncompromising cruelty. Sirius’ eyes grew wide and his heart was thudding painfully in his chest. A shiver ran from his neck down to his back and he dropped the library books that he had been holding close to his chest; it seemed that his hands had stopped working. Come to think of it, his whole body stopped working. He couldn’t make a sound, he couldn’t force his feet to run or even try to control his breathing.

“Don’t be so insolent,” the figure hissed, “and don’t keep me waiting – move!” Sirius blinked back tears and tried to pull himself out of shock.  
“M-M-Mum…” he hated the way his voice trembled, he sounded like a scared child. But nothing he did could shake the fear away. “W-what ar-are you doing h-h-here?”

Walburga Black stood proudly before Sirius. She uncrossed her arms and settled her hands in a clasped position in front of her like royalty instead. She wore emerald and black robes, embossed with gold piping and decoration and she was adorned with extravagant jewelry. The Black family ring sat proudly on her right hand, a serpent twisting its way around her finger; if you looked closely, you could see its small eyes moving, surveilling everything around it. 

The choker that decorated her neck was tight, but dark jewels hung from it, as if to demonstrate the inordinate wealth that the Black family owned. Despite her intimidating clothing, nothing quite held power like the look she wore on her face. Her expression was set in a permanent scowl, like whoever she was talking to was beneath her. Due to the Black’s position in the Sacred 28, she believed this to be true. Despite the light green colour of her eyes, her gaze was dark and calculated, like she could see your true intentions before you revealed them. She stood before Sirius now like she did in his nightmares, every bit as terrifying as he had remembered.

“Questioning your mother’s authority already, Sirius? We aren’t even home yet,” she said quietly, carefully. Tutting, she took a menacing step forward, her fingers gently caressing the snake of her family ring. “I told you…the time has come for you to leave this place. Leave nothing behind, you won’t be returning.” Sirius had shrunk back as she came closer, cursing himself for showing his fear. Normally he was so defiant, so well versed in feigning disinterest in her threats, but he was so caught off guard that his mask had slipped. He looked at the books scattered on the floor, and then back up to his mother, desperately trying to maintain some composure.

“W-What does that me-mean, Mother? I have a year left h-here, I have my NEWTs I ca-“

Sirius’ plea to remain at Hogwarts was silenced by a swift and sharp backhand to the face. He stumbled backwards, shocked, and clutched his hand to his face. He felt the blood leaking from the slice his mother’s ring had made in his cheek; the ring wasn’t just for decorative purposes. Sirius felt a bitter sting of irony as he realised the gash was just below the cut made by James a few weeks ago, which had only just healed itself. Sirius noticed as Walburga looked down at her hand and wiped away a small drop of blood from her ring.

“You dare talk back to me, to display your insolence in public, boy?” Walburga hissed through her teeth, just about containing her anger. She moved her hand beneath her robes and drew her wand; the slender, dark wood caught the light threateningly. Sirius shook his head rapidly, clamping his mouth shut and straightening up his posture; he knew he liked it when he remembered his etiquette lessons and stood like a pureblood. He saw her eyes rake him up and down as he did this and then glint with something evil.

“I-I’m sorry Mother,” he pleaded, pathetically, he realised. Walburga kept her grip on her wand tight, and one corner of her mouth twisted upwards, into a tiny, monstrous smirk.  
“I don’t believe you,” she whispered, raising her wand. Sirius’ eyes widened; his breathing stopped. ‘Surely, she wouldn’t…’ but he didn’t have time to finish his thought, to react. His mother raised her wand and instinctively he fell backwards, his back pressed against the wall for some protection, his arms pulled tightly up around his head and face, the rest of his body curled up firmly into a ball.  
“Cruci- “  
“Riddikulus!” a voice suddenly shouted from down the hall. Sirius was trembling, curled up in his protective ball on the floor when the laughter started. Heinous, uncontrollable cackling. He allowed himself to move his arms away from his head and he peeked up to where his mother was standing…but she had vanished. He slowly uncurled his body, trying to understand what was happening. 

‘Was she...was she going to use the cruciatus curse on me?’ Sirius thought. His mother had cursed him before, but only in his nightmares had she used an unforgivable curse. He looked around hastily to see where she had gone, but he couldn’t see her. His mind was shot, what was going on?

He pulled his fingers through his thick hair while he pulled himself up off of the ground and continued to look around, to see if anyone had seen what had happened. He could hear laughter but…oh. He understood in a sudden, crashing realisation. He felt like a fool. Rikkiculus. His mother hadn’t been there at all. But who had cast the spell? He looked up, searching desperately for the source of the laughter.

“Hello?” he called, only to be greeted by the continued hysterics. He took off, to get around the corner to find the person responsible. He sped up, hurtling around the corridor. He stopped dead in his tracks. Snape. Doubled up in laughter on the floor with a trunk besides him. The tears streamed down his face, the cruelness of his act not bothering him in the slightest. Sirius’ face drained of any colour that was left as he looked down at the boy in front of him, who was taking so much joy in his pain.

Suddenly, his rage appeared. Out of nowhere, his sorrow had turned to uncontrollable anger. He went to lunge for Snivellus, but before he grabbed him, he stopped. He had promised his friends that he would be better, that he would show them how sorry he was for his own ‘prank’. He stood up straight, looking Snape up and down, whose laughter was still shaking his whole body, and walked away. Despite the absolute longing he had to slap him silly, Sirius instead gathered up his books and strode purposefully towards the library. He could hear Snape gathering himself up off the floor and prayed to Merlin that he wouldn’t follow him.

No sooner had he thought it did the taunts begin. “Oh Sirius, I’m so sorry! I really am!” he said is a tone that clearly had not even a single drop of remorse. “It was only a prank,” he spat, with cruelty this time. Sirius held his tongue and kept on trudging towards the library. A few second year Hufflepuffs strode passed, nearly skipping in their haste to get outside in the sunshine, and Snape kept quiet until they had vanished. Suddenly, he picked up the pace, and managed to get before Sirius, blocking his path. He tried to dodge him, but Snape moved with him, cutting off his exit.

“You know, Black, most people’s Boggarts are just spiders or snakes or something. But who knew that the famous heartthrob of Gryffindor had Mummy issues, ey? I knew things were bad at home, but the cruciatus curse? Really? Phew, Mummy must really hate you as much as I do!” Snape’s eyes sparkled as he saw how much he was getting beneath Sirius’ skin. Sirius said nothing, he just thought of his friends. He thought of the debt that he owed them, and if letting Snivellus win this round, he was quite happy to let him, no matter how hard it was to not bite back. He stood passively, silently, and let Snape wear himself out.

“I had heard about that little rumour going around, too. About you being recruited this summer. I thought that surely, you’d find a way to get out of it by now…but it seems like if old Mumsy had anything to do about it, you won’t get a choise, will you?” Snape said with feigned sympathy, jutting out his lower lip. Sirius looked him in the eyes and raised his chin a little, to try and assert some dominance, or at least some nonchalance. He hated that he had learnt this from his mother, but if he had to inherit anything from her, it might as well be this. A glimmer of fear did appear in Snape’s eyes at Sirius’ intimidation technique, but his eyes flicked away from his own to inspect the new gash on his face, still leaking with drops of blood.

“Seems you’ve got lots of enemies at the moment, doesn’t it Black? Then again,” Snape paused, raising a finger to Sirius’ face. He took a quick step back, but Snape caught hold of his arm and held him tight, so that he couldn’t scramble away any further. Snape resumed his position and wiped a grubby finger across the cut on Sirius’ face. Unwillingly, Sirius released a hiss of pain as Snape did so, and he watched as the toe rag inspected the blood on his finger, before wiping it off on Sirius’ clean, white shirt. Snape looked back to Sirius’ eyes and continued, “you do have a very punchable face.” He smiled, haughtily, and pushed passed Sirius to leave, seemingly content with the damage that he had caused. Sirius watched him go and slumped against the wall once he was sure he was alone. He stayed there for a few minutes, attempting to calm his thoughts and slow his pounding heart. After a while, he was ready. He wiped away the trickle of blood from his face with the back of his hand and carried on to the library.

………………………………………………

The rest of the day flew passed in a blur. The final feast was spectacular, as always, but Sirius couldn’t enjoy it. He sat quietly with Lily, Mary and Marlene, who kindly included him in their conversation. They could see that he didn’t want to engage too much, so thankfully they didn’t push him. He caught Lily giving him a few worried glances throughout the meal, but he tried to give her a few small smiles in return to help alleviate her worries. She smiled back, genuinely, and he appreciated that she didn’t push the matter, or question his newest injury.

Things were less awkward with the Marauders now, but they still didn’t really talk. Sirius maintained his distance and kept away from them, as requested, but his talk with Remus had calmed his nerves somewhat. He noticed, that during Dumbledore’s final speech of the year, Remus assessing the new damage to Sirius’ face. Sirius caught Remus looking, and Moony looked away quickly, embarrassed. But Sirius’ gaze lingered on his concerned friend, talking in his features.

He wasn’t expecting Moony to look back to him again, but he did, chewing his lip nervously. Their eyes met and Remus gave Sirius a questioning thumbs up. It took him a long time to get to grips with this muggle concept after Moony had introduced it, but the Marauders used it frequently now. Remus would laugh at them, telling them that they thought it was a lot cooler than it actually was. Sirius mustered as much genuineness as he could and put it into a smile, returning the thumbs up to Moony. He wasn’t sure if he had convinced him, but he received a smile in return before Remus looked back to Dumbledore at the front of the Great Hall.

That evening there was a party in the Gryffindor common room, as there was every year on the last day of term. Well, as there was for any minor occasion to be honest. Sirius loved these nights. They went on for hours, singing and dancing and laughing until the early hours of the morning. In recent years, the Marauders had been ‘enhancing’ their nights by drinking fire whiskey and losing their inhabitations altogether.

The last party had ended when James and Sirius had killed their cover of Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy by Queen. They were stood on the tables, giving it everything they had. Sirius remembered scanning the crowd, looking desperately for Remus. He found him, stood quietly at the back of the room, leaning against the wall coolly, with a coy smile on his face, a cigarette between his lips. He had looked magnificent, and Sirius only sang louder and harder. When he and James finally stumbled off the table at the end of the song, Moony was there, arms immediately linked around the two of them, hauling them off to bed. The three had collapsed  
onto James bed, drunkenly mumbling about all sorts of nonsense until they fell asleep.

When Sirius woke up the next morning to bird song, he and Remus were facing each other. Moony had Sirius’ arm trapped beneath his neck, so he had no choice to stay like that until he woke up. He assessed the boy before him, the way his dark blonde hair fell across his forehead and into his eyes, the silvery scars that were etched into his skin. Sirius had never noticed Remus’ eyelashes before this moment, but he could see then that they were long, dark and thick, and made Sirius want to stroke them gently. As he was looking at his friend, he felt him beginning to twitch.

His eyelids and beautiful eyelashes began to flutter, and Sirius slammed his own eyes closed again, so not to be caught in the act. He could feel Moony’s body stretch a little and heard a small groan slip from his lips. After a moment of silence, Sirius felt the weight from his arm leave, as Remus gasped and leapt up from Sirius’ side. He kept his eyes closed, unwilling to catch the inevitable look of disgust in Remus’ eyes. He felt the weight of Remus’ body leave the bed and heard the frantic pacing and head scratching, followed shortly after by the sound of the bathroom door closing.

Sirius’ stomach fluttered as he remembered that evening, knowing tonight would be nothing like that. He would remain alone in his room while the party took place, knowing that he should let his friends enjoy the party without having to worry about bumping into him. As the evening came around, Sirius took up his seat on the windowsill, armed with a muggle book called To Kill A Mockingbird and a pack of fags. He sat there, alone, as he listened to the bass of the music through the walls and the shouts and squeals of the partygoers. Around 1am, he could hear the party beginning to wind down. He closed the book, making sure to mark the page that he was on; he had actually enjoyed reading this one. As he stood up, he wiped away the ash that lingered on his trousers and quickly got ready for bed.

Just as he was drawing back the curtains on his bed, he could hear his friends climbing the stairs to the dorm room. He hurried to make sure they were closed properly, and jumped into his bed, pulling the sheets up over his body. He lay quietly, trying to keep his breathing as soft as possible so he could hear what they were saying. They were talking in hushed tones. Well, Remus and James were. Peter was making some kind of weird, groaning noise; clearly, he had drunk too much.

“Doesn’t feel right though does it?” Sirius could hear Remus whisper now that they had entered the room.  
“No, no it doesn’t mate. Do you think we should say something before the summer?” James responded, sounding worried. Sirius was intrigued now, getting the impression that they were talking about him.  
“I don’t know, I think- oh, Pete come on. Help us out a little bit here!” Peter mumbled something incoherent back and James counted down from three. On one, Sirius could hear three distinct grunts and a thud as Remus and James managed to lift Peter into his bed. Remus continued his previous sentence, after a moment or two of trying to get his breath back.  
“I was saying, I don’t know. Maybe…maybe we should talk to him on the train tomorrow? You know how much he hates going home, and I know that…” Remus drifted off for a second but continued, with a hint of sadness in his voice, “I know we said we’d take a break, but we’re still mates aren’t we. All of us. We need to be there for him, we need to let him know that we still care about him. And…and I’m scared I messed that up the other day…” Remus sounded defeated, dejected, and Sirius kicked himself once again. He realised that Remus must be talking about when he said he had ‘loved’ him. Sirius had to admit, that that had been on his mind. A lot. He snapped out of his head when James continued.

“You’re right,” He said, considerate as ever. “If you’re happy with that, Moony, then that’s what we’ll do. I’m glad you’ve said it to be honest mate, I hate the thought of him going back there, especially with us being on bad terms.” Sirius could hear the shudder in James’ voice, followed by the sound of James’ hand clapping Remus on the back, “He’s our mate, no matter what. Looks like the prick is stuck with us now.” James joked, and Remus gave a small laugh, and Sirius’ face lit up with the first genuine smile he’d had in weeks.

………………………………………

As the student’s trudged their way from the ground of Hogwarts to the Hogsmead station, Sirius felt a presence approach him from behind. He expected more taunts from Snape, or even Regulus, so he span around quickly, face ready in scowl.

“Woah there Padfoot! Don’t bite my head off!” James’ dulcet tones had him lower his walls immediately, and Sirius looked to the ground embarrassed. Peter and Remus were there too, standing a little warily behind James.  
“Sorry mate,” he muttered quietly, still looking down.  
“Ah, don’t worry about it.” James dismissed, with a wave of his hand. The four of them walked down to the train together, falling into step besides each other. Sirius kept glancing at the others, wondering if they were going to say anything to him. James caught the suspicious looks.  
“We’re all going to sit together, right? In our usual carriage?” he had a way of speaking that made this less of a question and more of a statement. Remus and Peter nodded and looked to Sirius. He froze for a moment and began fiddling with his hands. God, he’d wish he’d stop twitching so nervously all of the time. It made him look so weak, so pathetic. He thrust his hands into his pockets, but noticed Moony’s eyes following them, concerned.

“I’d love to,” he said quietly with a smile.  
“Good! Well, now that that’s settled, what are we getting from the trolley today?” The three boys fell into an easy conversation, while Sirius stayed quiet. His chest was so full of happiness that he felt like he would burst at any moment. He didn’t want to mess that up by saying something stupid, so he kept his mouth shut and reveled in their company. As they fell into their compartment the conversation continued. Sirius took his normal seat by the window and looked up to the castle. Everyone was excited to be heading home for the summer, but Sirius felt like he was leaving his. The happiest memories that he had were made in this place, and the worst…well, the worst were the ones made in Grimmauld Place. He tried not to think about it too much, and as the Hogwarts Express pulled away from the station, he tried to enjoy the last few hours he would have before being back in the Black mansion.

“What happened to your face?” Peter blurted out, who immediately received a sharp slap on the arm from James and a murderous scowl from Remus. “What?!” he cried, “We were all wondering!” Sirius felt his cheeks blush as the three boys looked at him, curious looks now plastered across their faces as they waited to see if he would answer. He let out a stifled laugh and scratched the back of his head awkwardly. His hands just wouldn’t seem to stay still these days. He figured that the Marauders were trying with him, to put things aside for his sake. So, the least he could do would be to tell the truth.

“It was Snape, just being a tosser as usual,” he tried to say indifferently, but the slight tremble in his voice might have given him away.  
“What, he hit you?!” James exclaimed, “Or was it a hex?” The three were invested in the story now he realised. He battled with himself on whether to tell them the whole truth, but something in their eyes made him believe that they wouldn’t stop questioning him until they found out everything anyway. He took a deep breath.  
“Uhh, no. He’s getting smarter you know, old Snivellus,” he joked to try and diffuse the tension. It didn’t work. “He uh…he planted a Boggart in the corridor. I was distracted and was miles away really,” his friend’s eyes were widening as they listened the story.

“I didn’t realise it was a Boggart, so I didn’t cast the charm. I th-thought…” he cursed himself for stuttering, “I-I just thought my Mum had come to pick me up herself for some reason.” This statement came out like a question. “The Boggart was so real, it was her, you know? She- it- hit me but before it did anything else Snivellus stopped it. He got a good laugh out of it though, so…” Sirius really tried his best to make it lighthearted, for the sake of his friends. He didn’t deserve their pity. But upon looking around the carriage, it was clear that none of them had taken it in a lighthearted way. Peter looked like he was about to be sick. James looked like he was ready to punch a hole through the door but Remus, who was sat opposite Sirius, leant across and placed his hand on Sirius’ own.

“We have to tell someone – McGonagall or Dumbledore even. We need to get word to them about this no- “James was rambling, already drawing his trunk down from the shelf, presumably to get parchment and ink.

“James, mate, it’s fine. He was…” he stopped, looking back to Moony briefly. “He was getting pay back for what I did. I deserved it.” Sirius didn’t speak with shame this time, but certainty, and a hint of bravery. The others froze and regarded him for a second. James sighed and pushed his trunk back into its place, before sitting back down next to him.  
“He might have wanted revenge Pads, but you didn’t deserve that.” James looked to Remus, who nodded in agreement, and Sirius felt some of the tension leave his body.

“Thanks, Prongs,” Sirius replied. James pulled him into a tight and brotherly embrace. He relaxed into him and realised just how much it was needed. He felt the tension and shame seep from his bones, and tears pricked in his eyes. As they pulled apart, Pete sat smiling at the two of them and gave Sirius a small wink. Sirius was almost nervous to look at Remus, but when he did, he was met with a sincere smile, and unspoken words of forgiveness.

The rest of the journey was easier, more normal than Sirius dared to believe. They laughed and joked and teased each other the whole way back. Sirius remained quieter than normal, but just being surrounded by the normality that he so desperately craved over the past two weeks brought him overwhelming joy. It wasn’t until they were instructed to change into their home clothes that the dread once again seeped into his bones.

As he drew out the dark, almost regal robes, fear clenched in his stomach. He tried to hide it, but he knew James could see right through him. The Marauders changed, collected their trunks and said their goodbyes. All three of them looked at him with worry, but Moony stepped forward.  
“Don’t forget to write,” Remus said bashfully. “I might be away for a week or so with Mam and Da, but please,” he stopped and looked around to see if Peter and James were listening in. They both courteously pretended to be busy, James was tying his shoelace, muttering about the weather and Peter was inspecting his fingernails very, very closely. Remus and Sirius shared a hopeless giggle at the pair, before Remus continued, “But please write to me. If you can,” he added hurriedly.  
“I will, if I can,” Sirius said with the utmost sincerity. They shared a brief moment together, as their eyes met it was as if their souls connected too. Moony broke the gaze and turned, saying his goodbyes to the other two, and left. Peter joined him, shouting a quick goodbye to the last two boys.  
“See ya in September!” he yelled from down the hall. James and Sirius disembarked the train together. James stopped, putting down his trunk. He took hold of the back of Sirius’ neck and looked him dead in the eyes.  
“Be careful mate, yeah? You’ve still got the other half of my mirror?” Sirius nodded. “Good. If you…if you need anything, anything at all, you know where I am, right?” Sirius nodded again; the moment felt like goodbye to him. “My parents love you; you’re welcome anytime. Just…” he faltered for a moment, which was unlike James. “Just be careful Pads, and don’t wind them up. Play it cool and get back to us safely, okay?” James ended each sentence with a question, determined to get confirmation from Sirius that his message was understood. The lump in Sirius’ throat had grown now, and words failed him. He should have told James about Regulus’ threat, he realised now.

He opened his mouth to say something, anything, when a claw like grip grasped his shoulder. James released Sirius immediately. He watched as Sirius’ eyes grew wide, as his posture changed and how his face became solemn. There she was, Walburga Black, as terrifying as ever.  
“You’ve kept us waiting. Come, we don’t have time for…this” every word out of her mouth was a spat, dripping with distain. She looked James up, lips curled up in disgust. She turned sharply, Sirius still in her grip. His eyes begged James for forgiveness, before he was dragged away towards the floo networks. 

As he was being marched away from his friends, Sirius couldn’t help but let his mind wander. Would this be the last time that he would see them? In that moment he promised himself that no matter what, he would make it back to Hogwarts next year. 

His mother had already collected Regulus and the three trudged through the crowds of people to begin their journey home. Walburga never let her vice-like grip on Sirius’ shoulder loosen. As he cringed under her touch, he looked around at the other families being reunited. They were all hugging, kissing and just generally excited to see each other. Sirius spotted Fleamont and Euphemia Potter waiting for James. Fleamont had his arm wrapped around Effie as she stood high on her tiptoes, trying to crane her neck over the crowds to spot her son. Sirius has no doubt that as soon as she meets him, she will shower him with affection, and James won’t mind a bit. Sirius pictures Fleamont, stood a step behind them, watching the two most precious things in his life reunite. Only after Effie is done will he reach in for his own hug. The thought of their reunion brings a smile to Sirius’ face. It quickly vanishes though, when he thinks about his own situation, and how much he longs for that love and affection.

Walburga stares straight ahead; she hasn’t looked at him yet. The crowd of people parts for her, no one dares to get in her way. The Blacks reach the floo network, and Walburga takes a handful of floo powder, obviously intending to get herself home before her sons. A thought runs through Sirius’ mind. He could go anywhere; he could go straight to the Potter’s house if he chose to. The green flames engulfed Walburga, and Regulus momentarily after. Sirius took his shaking hand and closed his fingers around the powder. He stood in there, thoughts rushing through his head. He lifted his hand, closed his eyes and spoke clearly.

“12 Grimmauld Place.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading guys! Let me know what you think about this chapter in the comments :D 
> 
> Thank you loves :D


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I'm so happy with the reviews you've all been giving so far! I hope you enjoy this chapter too. 
> 
> TW for some casual underage drinking.

It was but a brief emerald flash and it was all over. He was back in his family home. He supposed that most people were overjoyed upon their return home. Family members who had missed them over the past months would flock and fuss over them, Grandparents would bring treats and younger siblings would look up to them in awe. But Grimmauld Place, ironically, was grim. It was now, and it had been ever since Sirius was a boy. The high ceilings and grand windows should let the place feel airy and light, but the thick, dark curtains made the rooms gloomy, like they’d been designed to prevent the warmth from the outside seeping through and penetrating the Black household. 

Sirius stood, downtrodden and glum already, still in the fireplace. He noticed that his mother’s cloak whipped around the corner of the doorframe, and she was followed quickly by Regulus. He was left standing alone, yet unsurprised, in the front room. He reluctantly left the hearth and carried his suitcase to the doorway that his family had just strode from and looked in the direction that they had walked. They were out of sight already. It was almost a relief, that he was left to himself. But the human-longing for love, for a mother’s love, would always sting when he was refused it. Sirius let out a small sigh and tried to convince himself that he didn’t care, that it was better this way. He went to leave the living room, but something caught his eye just before he did. He froze and lowered his trunk to the ground slowly. He looked back, up and down the corridor once more to ensure his solitude, and then crept towards the incredible tapestry on the wall. 

The Black family tree was immortalized on the wall before him, long dead ancestors looking out to him, assessing him, judging him. He paid them no mind, his gaze falling instead to his cousin’s spot. Where Andromeda’s smiling face had once gazed back at him, there was now a black void, the face burnt away. Sirius let his jaw fall open. He knew that his mother had despised her love for the muggle-born Ted Tonks, that she had threatened such action in the past, but he never thought they would actually go this far. Had Bellatrix and Narcissa let this happen to their sister? Sirius felt the panic rise into a hard lump in his throat. The thoughts of the dark mark swirled around his head. If he refused, would this become his fate? Would his mother finally disown him?

Before Sirius could visibly panic right there in the front room, he scurried back to his trunk and ascended the stairs as quickly as he could. He reached his room, quietly clicking the door into place. He threw his trunk onto his bed and sat next to it, resting his throbbing head in his hands. ‘Think, Sirius, come one, would she really?’ he tried to gather his thoughts. 

He thought about it logically. Walburga had no love for him, that he knew. She called him names, she thought he was pathetic, an embarrassment to the most noble and ancient house of Black; she thought he dragged their reputation through the mud. She wasn’t a traditional mother figure, she didn’t express love or affection like any other mothers Sirius had ever seen, but she did love him really, didn’t she? She just…didn’t really show it…right? He sat up straight and concluded his thought process. ‘Yes, she loves you deep down, of course she does,’ he insisted to himself. ‘She might hate what you do, but she doesn’t hate you. She wouldn’t disown her own child.’ He tried to convince himself by standing up and beginning to unpack his trunk, but the voice in the back of his head shouting ‘get out while you still can, you idiot!’ wouldn’t shut up. 

Sirius blocked it out. He couldn’t get out even if he wanted to. He was still on thin ice with the Marauders, and he didn’t want to trouble anyone over the holidays; he’d provided them with enough drama to last a lifetime over the past few weeks. No, this was his issue to deal with, and deal with it he would. ‘It will be fine anyway, quit worrying,’ he tried to convince the nagging feeling of unease in his mind. 

For the next few hours, Sirius busied himself, so he didn’t have too much free time to think about ‘ifs’ and ‘buts’. He tidied away the contents from his trunk, he hid his half of James’ mirror under a loose floorboard for safekeeping and he even started his Transfiguration homework. When he inevitably got bored of that he made his way from his grand desk in the corner of his room, to the even grander bed. He flopped down on in to lay on his back, cupped his hands behind his head and surveyed the room properly for the first time that day. 

The room was just as regal as the rest of the house; ornate crown molding on the ceiling, high Victorian windows (also darkened deliberately by the heavy curtains) and luxurious furnishings decorated the room. It was like it was not made to be lived in, but rather to be observed from a distance. James’ room had been made to live in though. The first time Sirius went to stay with him his eyes widened in disbelief. The walls glowed bright red, animated golden paintings of Gryffindor Lions and quidditch players swam magically across the walls. He had decorated the room with trophies, posters and dozens of photos of school friends and family members. Sirius had tried to make his own room ‘livable’ last summer, to replicate the warmness of James’. Actually, if he was being truthful, he did it more to piss his mother off, but nonetheless, he tried to remove some of the stiffness from his bedroom. 

He had cast permanent sticking spells onto posters of muggle musicians; unmoving pictures of Queen, David Bowie and The Rolling Stones littered the walls. His mother had had a fit when she saw them, scrambling in an unusual display of panic when she first lay eyes on them. The muggle musicians were bad enough, but when she saw the stillness of them, she seemed almost scared of them. He smirked at the memory, but it quickly vanished when he thought of the punishment that followed. Before he could dwell too long on yet another dark memory, a sharp knock rapped at his door. 

“Come in Kreature,” Sirius called. He knew it was the house elf, anyone else would have refused to respect his privacy and would simply barge straight in. The ugly servant crept in slowly, his head bowed low.

“Master Sirius, your parents have requested your attendance at dinner. It will be served in the formal dining room due to the celebratory occasion of yours and Master Regulus’ return for the summer. Your father has requested that you dress appropriately.” The house elf didn’t stutter, as many of the frightened creatures did. He spoke calmly, respectfully but with his own undertone of dislike towards Sirius.  
“Yes, thank you Kreature, you can leave.” Sirius had never taken to the house elf himself, he did too much to please his mother, and she abused him at any given opportunity. But still, Kreature went crawling back to her when she snapped her fingers, happy to serve and live a life of subjugation. Sirius couldn’t understand how the house elf remained content. “Adapt to survive,’ he thought briefly. 

He sighed deeply, already daunted by the prospect of a formal family dinner. There were no guests, else his father would have visited Sirius personally, to warn him to behave. That was a relief, at least. Sirius hated the formality of eating dinner with his family. Robes, cravats and dress shoes, all to eat salmon and drink wine. He eventually pulled himself up off the bed, trying to remember the promise he made himself. Play it cool and get back to Hogwarts. If that meant sitting patiently through tedious dinners, so be it. 

On this note, Sirius decided he would make a good first impression. He washed his face with cold water and combed his hair back into a slick, clean style. He hated it; his long, black locks deserved to flow freely and effortlessly around his face, but needs must. He dressed in tailored black trousers, a white dress shirt and a dark grey waistcoat. As he tucked the silver pocket watch into the waistcoat’s pocket and tied the cravat around his neck, his stomach began to do summersaults. He clamped his clammy hands into fists at his sides and glared at himself in the mirror.

“Get a grip. Pull yourself together,” he said aloud to himself. He stood up straighter and assessed his finery. Happy, he nodded at himself and added the dinner jacket before leaving the relative safety of his room. He quietly made his way through the winding halls, navigating passed portraits of unknown ancestors, who loved to hurl an insult or two. After a few minutes he stood outside the formal dining room as numerous house elves shuffled in and out, preparing the table and fixing the food. Kreature was enjoying the authority he held over these house elves, but paused when Sirius arrived. He seemed surprised as he looked at the boy. He looked him up and down, taking in the perceived effort Sirius had made with his appearance and punctuality to dinner. Sirius supposed it made sense to be surprised; last year was his most rebellious yet. He flat out refused to attend most dinners, relying on scraps from the house elves late at night. He also refused to dress in wizarding clothes, but instead adorned himself in Doctor Martens, jeans and band t-shirts all summer.  
He even went as far as to get a small silver hoop pierced through his ear. 

“Master Sirius…” Kreature regained his calm demeanor and continued, “Please follow me, sir. Your parents will be most happy to see you back to your old self.” The smugness in Kreature’s voice made Sirius want to roll his eyes, but he was armed with his pure-blood persona now, and he intended to keep it that way. He calmly followed his escort into the dining room. His parents sat opposite one another, a chair next to each of them, both empty. The intricate chandelier that hung above the mahogany table was embellished with countless candles, all lit and illuminated the murky room in a fiery glow. Neither of his parents spoke to the other as they sat in a difficult silence, but their heads turned in unison as they heard someone enter. 

“Hello Father,” Sirius announced politely. Orion Black sat back in one of the lavish dining chairs. His left-hand gripped the arm of the chair, which was complexly designed with etchings of writhing, muscular figures, which clambered over each other. Sirius asked his parents about the humans carved into the wood once; he was probably about seven years old at the time. They explained that the humans in the wooded carvings were muggles, mudbloods and half-breeds; people beneath them. They, the most ancient and noble house of Black, were above the. They would one day take their rightful place on the throne above them. These people were nothing, his mother explained. They were slaves made to serve the likes of the Sacred 28, and one day that vision would become a reality. Sirius shivered at the thought of it. 

His father nodded approvingly in Sirius’ direction after a moment or two, which served as acceptance and permission to sit down at the family table. He had a moment to decide whether to take the seat next to his mother or father. Neither were great options, but he opted for his mother. He hated it, but that way he wouldn’t be forced to endure looking at her calculating gaze all dinner. As he pulled out the chair to take a seat, Sirius decided to direct a comment to his mother too. 

“Thank you for collecting me at the station Mother, I’m sorry that I kept you waiting.” He remained calm, and was impressed at himself as his voice sounded both confident and convincing. He poured himself a small glass of wine and his mother eyed him cautiously as he did so. He knew that she was confused at his behaviour. He purposely stopped pouring the wine at the same level that her glass was at now, that way she couldn’t chastise him for acting like a commoner, nor could she criticize his inability appreciate a vintage grape. She grunted in response to his comment, almost sounding disappointed at the lack of a row. 

The three waited in silence as they sat in anticipation of Regulus’ arrival. Sirius prayed he wouldn’t be long. The quietness became unbearable, and Orion was the first to speak.  
“We received your school report Sirius,” he mumbled, disinterested. His father often mumbled. Sirius had often wondered why he did so, especially as he was often reprimanded by his mother and etiquette teacher for doing so when he was younger. But as the years stretched on, Sirius understood the tactics behind it; his father did so when he wanted a person to listen. To really listen. The quietness of his voice drew you in, you had to pay acute, thoughtful attention if you wanted to understand the message. Often when communicating in this way, the meaning would be significant, and his father wanted you to be drawn in close. Sometimes, the result would be a sharp slap around the ear, other times it would be tales which Orion hoped would inspire awe in his name. Either way, Sirius detested it, and always felt nervous when listening to the cunning way in which he spoke. 

“The grades were good, I must say,” he paused, taking a sip of his wine. Sirius had unwillingly leant forward in his seat, unconsciously hoping that his father would grant him praise. “But the commentary on your personal qualities, well, it was meaningless.” Orion stopped talking and showed no intention of continuing. Sirius saw the way he looked up at him lazily and felt a sting of disappointment.  
“May I ask what you mean by that, Father?” He was mindful of his tone, and Orion seemed to have deemed it appropriate. Walburga sat back in her seat, relaxed and passive. She didn’t care. 

“It’s simple really; it was written by that McGonagall. Franky, I don’t care if she says you’re the next Minister of Magic in the making, her word is unimportant and will not be held in any regard in this house.” Sirius felt a wave of heat rise into his neck at the slander of McGonagall. She had shown him nothing but kindness and love, even in the wake of the disastrous ‘prank’. He bit his tongue; he desperately wanted to defend her name, to argue with his father’s perception of her, but it would get him nowhere. The kicker was, he knew that that McGonagall would want him to let it go too. He calmed at this thought and listened to his father continue to drawl on.

“If Slughorn had written it, then perhaps we would give the words some merit, but the opinions of the head of Gryffindor means nothing in this house.” Orion made direct eye contact with Sirius during this comment, and Sirius made sure to keep his expressions neutral and measured. He nodded his head diplomatically.  
“Yes, Father, I understand. I am glad that you find the grade pleasing, I worked hard this year to bring honour to the house of Black.” His mother let out a contorted sound, something which was halfway between a snort and a hiss. He again paid it no mind and took a small sip from his wine glass.

Thankfully, moments later, Kreature entered the room again, this time escorting Regulus into the dining room. He paused momentarily, taking in the sight of Sirius sat there, adorned in all of his finery, exchanging ‘pleasantries’ with his parents. A wave of apprehension seemed to appear in his eye, before he too took a seat. Sirius felt a small spark of joy when he noticed that Regulus hadn’t dressed quite as smartly as him for dinner. It was irrelevant really, but he enjoyed getting one up on his brother when possible. 

Dinner was served after some more tedious and meaningless small talk. It was several courses, the main course being goose. Sirius hated the formality of it all but kept up his charade well. They were well into dessert when Regulus looked up from his treacle tart to begin a new topic of conversation.

“Do you remember Severus? Severus Snape? He is a Slytherin in Sirius’ year,” Regulus began. To anyone else it would seem that Regulus was just sparking an innocent conversation. But Sirius was terrified; did Snape tell him? His fork slipped from his fingers, clattering noisily down onto his plate. His mother turned abruptly at him and tutted, her top lip once again curling up in scorn.  
“Yes,” Orion replied, eyes leaving Sirius’ fork, moving to Regulus. “It’s a shame about him really. Very good at potions, isn’t he? He was on my radar for a while, but he didn’t make the cut.” Walburga looked at him quizzically, as if to ask why he no longer ‘made the cut’. Orion understood from her look and replied simply, “Half-blood.” She groaned, eyes rolling back in distain. 

“Why do perfectly good purebloods insist on mixing with scum? Do they not care for their lineage? They should be cast out, all of them…” Sirius unconsciously tuned out; he’d learned to mute his mother’s pureblood rants a long time ago. Regulus’ voice summoned him back to the room. 

“Yes, well, he was almost killed at Hogwarts a few weeks ago,” he shoveled another forkful of treacle tart into his mouth as his mother and father looked on, intrigued. Sirius realised the absurdity of it. Surely their first response should be horror. A student who attended the school of their own children was almost killed, but their reaction was interest instead of shock.  
“A monster,” he said. He looked between his mother and father to see their reactions and saw that they needed more. “I don’t know much else,” he shrugged, “He just said that he snuck out one night to get some fresh air and a half-breed of some kind attacked him.” 

The tone of Regulus’ words indicated to Sirius that he really didn’t know anything else. He didn’t know that he was involved, nor did he know what Remus was. Nonetheless, Sirius could feel that the colour had left his cheeks, so he kept his head down, assuming an intense infatuation with his dessert. 

“Well,” Walburga pondered in an unusually playful voice, “Too bad it didn’t kill him after all. It would be one less to worry about,” Sirius’ head shot up, noticing the nasty smirks that had settled on both of his parents’ faces. Once again that evening, he clamped his mouth shut, his own mother and father once again surprising him with their cruelty. To his surprise though, Regulus burst into a fit of coughing. All eyes shifted to him. He sipped his wine and regained his composure, looking up to his mother with wide eyes. 

“Mother, he’s my friend! How…” he seemed to think twice, but he didn’t back down. “How could you say that? He’s a kid, like…like Sirius and I.” His voice wasn’t rude, but it was demanding. His mother’s scowl deepened; a thin eyebrow arched dangerously.  
“Learn your place, boy,” she hissed, “Both in this family and in this world. You don’t speak to me like that. And you don’t side with them.” Regulus nodded sharply and broke eye contact.  
“I expect that from him,” she thrust her head in Sirius’ direction, “He’s been colluding with blood-traitors from his first day at Hogwarts, but I don’t expect it from you.”

The venom in her voice was undeniable and brought a swift end to the evenings’ conversation. As the house elves began to tidy away, Regulus and Sirius were told by their father to leave the dining room. Sirius knew that after dinners his mother and father assessed the discussions and revelations from their sons over a bottle of Quintin Black. Regulus and Sirius climbed the stairs in an amicable silence before Sirius could feel his brother turn his gaze to him. 

“What is your plan, huh? What is all of this?” he gestured up and down Sirius’ body with his hand, presumably indicating his clothes.  
“No plan little brother, just following your shining example,” he slapped on an over-the-top smile ruffled Regulus’ hair to irritate him. It clearly worked as he tried to dive away from him. Sirius laughed and Regulus returned it with a tentative smile.  
“Why don’t we try and get along this summer, aye Reggie? Now that we’re all each other has for company, we might as well try, right?” Regulus rolled his eyes at the use of ‘Reggie’, but his face remained guarded.  
“If you don’t piss me off too much, then maybe I’ll think about it.” He said it with a bit of bite, but Sirius knew this really meant yes. He gave him a wink as he turned away towards his room. 

Sirius did feel a twinge of pain in his chest when he thought about the bond that he and Regulus now shared. They used to be a lot closer, when they were younger. Sirius had always been the protector of his little brother, and Regulus could see where Sirius’ behaviour had gotten him. As a result, Sirius supposed, he had altered his path away from him, to avoid the same repercussions. ‘Smart,’ he thought. 

As he readied himself for bed, he realised that he was proud of himself. He had made it! The first night was always the hardest, and he hadn’t reacted, not even once. He lay back in bed with a satisfied smile on his face and a fiery resolve in his chest. 

He would do this; he would make it back to Hogwarts. 

He fell asleep that night with the ghost of his smile lingering on his face, and dreamt of his friends, his home, and his life away from this place. 

…………………………………

The next two weeks continued in much the same way; Sirius worked tirelessly to please his parents; the effort in restraining himself every time his parents uttered a derogatory slur in itself was exhausting. But he kept up appearances well he thought. In response to his new attitude, his parents said little, or did little, to harm him. Sure, there was the odd insult or belittlement every few sentences, but nothing that he couldn’t handle. His mother in particular like to try and catch him out. On more than one occasion she had torn apart the Potters, calling them unspeakable things. 

In these moments like that the Marauders would always come to him. James’ serious face at the station, making him promise to come back. He saw Pete’s face furrowed in concentration as they battle it out in wizard’s chess. And he saw Remus, bathed in the flickering light of the fireplace, looking between him and his book with a subdued happiness. These precious memories kept him calm and kept him on track. 

He felt a small pang of sadness though, when he thought of the Marauders. He knew that he was still on thin ice with them all, but he thought that they had made good progress before the summer break. Remus had made him promise to write to him – and he had, twice. But he had not received a single letter from any of them, and it stirred a bitter disappointment in his stomach when he thought about it. Maybe, in his state of wishful thinking, he had overstated the comradery on the Hogwarts Express a few weeks ago.

He asked Regulus about the family owl one night as they played gob stones together.  
“That stupid owl of ours managed to find its way to your room yet this summer?” he asked, hoping the question sounded breezy.  
“Yeah,” Regulus eyes flicked to Sirius, but he kept his fixed on the gob stones, pretending to be deep in a tactical thought. “Have you not gotten any letters?” He asked, almost sounding forlorn for his brother.

“Nah, told the boys not to bother writing this summer,” flicking his stone, causing as much chaos as he could in the game. His eyes still never left the table, and Regulus seemed to get the hint, drawing his attention back to his own side of the game.

He and Reggie had been getting on better. They spent time together most evenings, reading or playing quiet games, but they still didn’t really talk. Sirius took it as a small victory though, and was happy enough just to be in the comfortable silence of his brother’s company. Even though their relationship had been strained in the recent years, he had never stopped looking out for his younger brother, even when he didn’t fully recognise it himself. 

It wasn’t until his second Saturday at home came around that he felt his hope begin to slip away. 

Sirius’ eating habits at Hogwarts made it impossible for him to go a long time without food. He found himself often sneaking down to the kitchens of Grimmauld Place in the dead of the night for snacks, hoping and praying that he wouldn’t bump into anyone. The house elves would normally still be pottering about and were happy to rustle him up something to eat. 

He crept passed the empty rooms on the ground floor as he made his way to the kitchens, dreaming of a pork-belly sandwich from tonight’s leftovers. Quite unexpectedly for this time of night, he heard a quiet whispering coming from the parlour room. He froze, afraid that he would be heard if he continued; he decided the risk wasn’t worth it. 

As he reluctantly began to turn around slowly on the spot, he couldn’t help but overhearing his mother’s voice.  
“It’s all been finalized,” she spoke. Sirius could hear her pace from one end of the room to the other, folding paper in her hands. She must have received a letter, he realised, and as if to confirm his thoughts, he heard the sound of flapping wings leaving the premises. He took a tentative step towards the door and peered through the slither of a gap left between the door and the frame. 

Walburga had placed the letter in Orion’s hands and had returned to her seat. She leant back in the leather chair, sipping on an expensive whiskey, a conceited smile spreading across her lips. The sight of it made Sirius shiver. He flicked his eyes to his father now, to gage his rection to the letter. He too was smiling. This struck Sirius as more bizarre than seeing his mother grin. The only other time Orion had smiled in his presence was when Lucius Malfoy had hexed Rodolphus Lestrange at a dinner party once. Clearly, this letter contained no news that would be deemed ‘good’ by anyone else’s standards. 

“The whole family will attend, next week. It will be best that keep this quiet though, Orion. We will state that it is simple a dinner party, yes?” He nodded silently in agreement and the two continued to sip their alcohol in peace. Sirius knew that no more conversation would happen between the two; he would learn nothing more of that letter. He snuck away from the door and back to his room, his legs like jelly the whole way. Without even reading the letter, he knew its contents. It was the confirmation of his induction into the Death Eaters. He didn’t know how he knew, but he just did. 

His stomach churned as he ran to his bathroom and made it just in time to empty the contents of his stomach. He eventually pulled himself upright and managed to splash cold water in his face. As he looked at his distraught expression in the mirror, he tried to gain his resolve. He needed to know for sure; he needed to read that letter. He entered ‘Marauders mode’ and schemed and planned for the rest of the night. The decision was made. Tomorrow night, he would do it. He would find the letter, and he would find out his fate. If the letter confirmed his worries, he knew then what he’d have to do. 

It would be time to leave this house, this family, once and for all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much everyone! Please let me know what you think about this chapter in the comments :D


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter y'all, looking at how Remus' summer is going so far. 
> 
> Honestly, no TW here, just some hella cute Hope and Lyall moments for you all. A lot brighter than some previous chapters. 
> 
> Enjoy!

As he left Sirius in the carriage, Remus’ heart thumped wildly against his chest. The last few weeks had been a rollercoaster, and as much as he was glad that things had been left on a good note with Sirius, he was happy for the break. 

The warm summer breeze ruffled Remus’ dirty blonde curls as he descended the two small steps from the Hogwarts Express and found himself immediately engulfed in the ebbing and flowing of the crowd, hundreds of people waiting to reunite with their loved ones.

“See ya Moony,” he heard Peter yell. Before he had chance to reply, Wormtail had already woven his way through the masses, dodging swinging trunks and squawking owls in cages. Remus hated being in large groups of people, but he pushed the discomfort away and began to scan the hoardes before him. He stood high on the balls of his feet, craning his neck to try and see over the scrambling students and flustered Mums to find his own parents, sure that they would be stood somewhere discreet to prevent Hope from becoming too overwhelmed by the chaos of the wizarding world.

As he balanced tentatively on his toes, a hard shoulder connected with his back knocking him off balance. He stumbled, dropping his trunk to the ground, almost toppling over it in the commotion of it all. He recovered, gathered his things together again and raised himself back up to a standing position. As he did, he felt a vice like grip take hold of his shoulder.

“Sorry about that, Lupin,” the whispered sneer was too close, the hotness of Snape’s breath caught in his ear and made Remus shiver. Snape released his shoulder with a brusque shove and looked him up and down, snickering at the twisted look of disgust and fear on Remus’ face. He knew he should hide his emotions better, but he really couldn’t help it. 

“Have a lovely summer. I’ll be thinking of you…especially on the night of the full moon.” The last part was said quiet enough that Remus knew it was meant for him, and him alone. Snape wasn’t going to tell anyone, but if he was going to continuing goading him like this until the end of their time in Hogwarts, he was going to lose his mind. Snape span around and left Remus to his distress, seemingly satisfied with the anxiety he’d caused.

With a deep, shuddering breath, Remus brushed his hair back and smoothed out his clothes. He wrestled his way through the throbbing horde of witches and wizards, offering his apologies where possible. Finally, he’d made his way to the back of the platform and there they stood. Hope and Lyall Lupin.

Remus was the image of his father Lyall. They both had a mess of dirty blonde curls on their head and were both tall and slim. The kicker though, was in their mannerisms. Both were amazingly awkward, never really knowing what to do with their hands other than scratching their heads or stuffing them in their pockets. They both offered the same default facial expression too; a coy, straight smile. Unless they were genuinely laughing, of course. Then they both stretched their lips into the same wide, crescent moon shapes, flashing beautifully straight lines of white teeth. Granted, it was a rare occasion that either of them smiled with their teeth in public, the awkwardness was just too strong with them both. No, those special smiles were reserved for the closest family and friends, those who the Lupin men felt most comfortable around. 

Hope had given Remus main traits too. Her twinkling blue eyes were captivating like his own, and her striking roman nose had been passed to him too. While Lyall always stayed a pasty white in the sun, Hope would turn an olive brown in no time at all. She and Remus had always tanned quickly in the sun, and freckles would burst out across both of their noses and cheeks too. She was short compared to both Lyall and Remus, but she secretly loved it. She felt protected and safe in the presence of her boys, her men. She had marveled at Remus’ growth spurt after his second year at Hogwarts. She had gaped at him as he hauled his trunk towards them, a solid foot taller than he had been at the start of the year. She gazed up at them with bright eyes, proceeding to burst into tears shortly afterwards. She cried in the car all the way home, saying that he wasn’t to go back, he was growing up too quickly and she was missing it. She was missing him. He smiled the whole time during this ‘episode’, knowing that she was just ‘being a Mam’. She’d never actually stop him from going to Hogwarts, she knew how much he loved it. It was, after all, the first place he had ever had any real friends.

He looked at them now, stood before him, and he noticed how old they suddenly looked. They both had grey hairs sprouting from their temples and his Da’s beard was more grey than brown now. His Mam had gained more wrinkles, not that he would ever tell her that. He smiled that coy smile though, as he noticed that they were smile lines, circling her eyes. She always had squinted her eyes and scrunched up her nose when she lit up with joy. She laughed with her whole face, her whole body, and he had loved that about her. They looked happy, excited to be searching for him in the crowds.

He noticed that his Mam was clutching his Da’s hand, fingernails white from the strength of her grip. She was so proud of Remus for being a wizard, and his Da’s magic had always enchanted her, but being a muggle and entering this strange world of wizarding families can’t have been easy. It was a lot to take in, even for Remus at times.

Once he was satisfied with his moment of secret observation, he stepped into his parent’s view. His Mam’s hand slipped from his Da’s and her arms flew up, into the air as she ran forward to greet him. He dropped his trunk at his side and bent down to embrace her running hug.

“Oh, my love!” she gasped, her voice thick with unshed tears. “Oh, I’ve missed you so much! I’ve been dying to cwtch you!” She was lost in the hug, squeezing her son tight and swaying him side to side. Remus chuckled and replied,

“I’ve missed you too Mam, I forgot how Welsh-y you sound!” he joked, as he pulled away from the hug. He turned away from his Mam’s rosy cheeks and watery eyes to his Da. He stood behind Hope, eyes creased from the bright smile that lit up his face; the crow’s feet around his eyes suddenly stood out boldly too.

“Come here my boy,” he urged, clasping Remus’ hand in a tight handshake and pulling him in for an earnest hug. As the initial greetings were completed, the happy family quickly huddled their way off the Platform 9 ¾ and left Kings Cross Station. Remus loaded up his trunk into the boot of their Ford Anglia and they started the long drive back to Wales. Both Hope and Lyall peppered him with questions the whole drive home.

“How are your friends, dear?”

“Did your transformations go okay?”

“Are you happy with your grades?”

“You got a girlfriend?”

The last question left Remus flustered, and both his Mam and Da giggled at his bashfulness.

“You’re a very handsome young man Remus, any girl would be lucky to have you!” his Mam said with the utmost sincerity.

“Yeah well…thanks Mam. I’ve not really had the uhh…well I suppose I’ve not really had my eye on any girls yet,” he spluttered out, hoping that that would be a sufficient enough answer to prevent anymore questioning on the matter. Sadly not, he realised, as his Mam turned around from the front seat to make sure she looked him in the eye for the next statement of hers.

“You do know that though, don’t you love?”

“K-know what Mam?”

“That any girl would be lucky to have you. You’re handsome and smart and kind. You’re everything that a girl could ever want. Do you hear me?” She gazed at him with kind eyes; she genuinely looked at him and saw him as a perfect boy. He smiled back at the earnest look on her face and nodded his head.

“Thanks Mam,” he offered quietly. She squinted at him for a second longer but seemed to believe him. She smiled gently, and turned back around, sitting back properly in her seat.

Remus let out a breath when his Da started asking him about James’ plan of action for quidditch next year and they continued to chat rubbish until the world outside the car windows became familiar once more. The Lupins lived in West Wales. After driving through the rugged, mountainous terrain of the Welsh countryside, they finally reached the seaside town of Aberporth. There they took one final turn, down an isolated country road for another mile or so, and they were home.

It was quite some way from the splendor of Hogwarts, but Remus loved it all the same. Galwad-y-Môr was the name of their family home, it meant ‘the call of the sea’ in the Welsh language. As he dragged his heavy trunk through the crooked front door, he realised how glad he was to be home. He could have cried. He looked around and surveyed the small space in the downstairs area. 

The low ceilings caused a problem for both Lyall and Remus, the two occasionally knocking their heads on the uneven, wooden beams that ran along them. Hope, of course, never had to worry about this issue. Her biggest feat was climbing over the weathered wooden planks that ran along the doorways separating each room. The living room smelt of smoke and burnt wood, courtesy of the open fire. The whole wall behind the fireplace was adorned with books, magical and muggle alike. Remus ran his long fingers along the spines, smiling contentedly to himself and his parents busied themselves fussing with the kettle and the biscuits.

His attention was drawn away from the books as he heard a small meow and the tinkle of a bell from behind him.

“Whiskers,” he called joyfully. The cat wound her way around his ankles, and Remus bent down to scoop her up. He’d never told the Marauders that he owned a cat; it felt like it may have been an insult to Padfoot. He felt guilty now as Whiskers lay happily back in his arms, purring and licking his hand as he stroked her.

“Come and get some tea and Welsh cakes love, I baked them this morning especially,” his Mam called from the small kitchen. He let Whiskers down again, brushing the ginger fur off his jumper and went in to grab some food. Remus had inherited his Mam’s love for chocolate too, so she had swapped out the raisins in the Welsh cakes with chocolate chips; she knew that was his favourite.

As he took his seat at the head of the table (his parents had always insisted that he sat there), he felt like a little boy again. Yes, his knees touched the bottom of the rickety old table, but he felt like his problems had melted away. His shoulders felt blissfully light, knowing that he had time away from the dramas of Hogwarts; the last time he felt this blissful calmness was when he was just a boy.

Remus smiled absently as his eyes traced the kitchen, finding the back door. It hung crooked on its hinges and the warped wood was painted a light blue colour, like how you’d imagine a sunny spring day’s sky to look. Through the paneled windows of the door, Remus gazed out at their back garden. The small space was everything Hope had ever dreamed of.

Galwad-y-Môr was precariously placed near the edge of the high hills which over-looked the coastline, and the small garden lined that edge. The shrubbery grew wilder each year Remus noticed, the vegetable patch spreading beyond its boundaries each season too, he thought wistfully. He’d often find his parents pottering around out there after he’d woken in the morning, his Mam adorned in her pruning gloves and wellies, while his Dad prepared them coffee and watched absentmindedly, occasionally shifting his focus to his newspaper.

Whenever the weather wasn’t too poor, Remus would open his bedroom window, which faced the back garden. He grew up accustomed to the sound of the waves crashing into the shore down at the bottom of the cliff, and he loved hearing the wailing seagulls. It was something that he dearly missed when in Hogwarts.

When he was about six years old, when still getting to grips with his Lycanthropy, his Da had planned an adventure for the three Lupins. They had set out in the glorious springtime, equipped with heavy boots and cricket bats. Their mission was to stamp their way down the steep cliff edge, trampling as many weeds as they dared until they had their own private path to the beach below. Remus realised now that his Da could have completed the task in mere minutes if he wanted to use magic, but for Remus’ sake he had spent months crafting the path. Together they trapsed down the hill, stomping in time to ‘I’m a Believer’ by The Monkees, laughing until their stomachs hurt.

They finished the stomping in good time, but Lyall had taken Remus down there for the rest of the spring and into the summer to make improvements. They found old pieces of driftwood that washed up on shore to plant firmly into the hillside to make steps, and Lyall insisted that Remus painted these in any way he saw fit. So, of course, after the six-year-old was done, they had a wonky path of rainbow steps leading from their quaint back garden, right down to their own stretch of beach.

They spent many a night down there on the beach together, huddled next to a campfire, wrapped up in Hope’s knitted blankets and toasting marshmallows. They even had a ritual, come rain or shine, after every full moon. Lyall, using magic this time, had created three intricately designed wooden pews, each with a name carved into the side; Remus, Hope and Lyall. They would saunter down the path together, Remus often limping, Hope often holding back tears and Lyall often cursing himself and his insistence to pursue his career. They would settle into their seats and drink hot chocolate. They may have arrived miserable, but they always left feeling a lot better.

Remus was drawn back from his peaceful memories to the present by his Da’s voice. As he looked across the table to him, he could see that he had gripped Hope’s hand and held it softly in his own and lowered his mug of tea back to the table.

“We’ve been lucky this year Remus, with the weather! It hasn’t rained hardly at all, which makes a change!” Lyall said pleasantly. His Da had a rare sparkle in his eyes, like he was about to share something exciting. His eyes darted quickly from Remus to Hope, before landing back on Remus.

“We thought…well, your Mam and I…well we thought that maybe we should take one last family trip, before you get too old and get embarrassed by that kind of thing!” Lyall spoke quickly and laughed nervously. Remus smiled reassuringly to his Da, sensing the anxiety in his voice. He loved his parents, and he loved spending time with them, but he certainly was already passed the point that would have been considered ‘too old’ for going on holiday with his family.

“We’ve rented out the caravan, the one down by Barafundle Bay. The…the one that you love.” Lyall seemed to get worried for a second at Remus’ silence, and his hand found the back of his head, scratching apprehensively. Remus recognised the nervousness, for he did the same thing when he was tense. He plastered on an encouraging smile and said,

“That’s perfect Da, just what I needed to hear. Thank you,” Hope rolled her eyes at her husband’s awkwardness and Lyall raised his eyes from the ground, genuine happiness lighting up his face.

Remus loved his Da’s eyes, one was a light green while the other was sapphire blue; heterochromia it was called. He remembered once that he had woken up after a transformation with a new scar cutting across his chin. It was very light, and faded quickly, but Remus cried and cried, claiming it would make him ugly. He was only about seven at the time. 

“Look at me,” Lyall had demanded, gesturing to his eyes. “My eyes are different, do you see?” Remus had nodded, swiping at the tears that ran down his cheeks.

“Do you think they make me ugly?” he questioned. Immediately, Remus’ head shook from side to side, shocked at the suggestion. “No, you’re right. They’re unique; they make me, me. Your scars are unique too son, they are not ugly. They make you special. And I love them, because they are a part of you.” It had helped, for a long time. He was still insecure of his scars, sure, but as a child he felt a little bit braver, because he and his Da were both different, and they were both special.

………………………………………

After further chit chat in the kitchen and a bit of gossip spilt about the local gardening club members, Remus made his way upstairs to unpack his trunk. His owl had made its way safely back to Galwad-y-Môr, but oddly enough was joined by a second bird perched quietly on his windowsill. As he crossed the room to investigate, he noticed the small note tied to the leg of the new owl.

Confused at who would be writing to him already, he untied the note and moved a bowl of water to the foot of the owl, so it could refresh and be on its way. He rolled out the tiny scroll and saw the name: Lily. He chuckled to himself, of course it was Lily. Who else would be organised enough to have already begun summer correspondence? The note read -

_Remus! I’m so sorry that I missed you on the train coming home for the summer. I wanted to chat to you actually, but when I reached your carriage Sirius was in there with you all. I know you’ve been on tenterhooks around each other recently, so I didn’t think it would be wise to interrupt. But anyway, I would love to meet up with you in the summer at some point, if you would be interested at all? I totally understand if not though! You’re welcome to come and visit me in muggle London, or I could come to you in Wales? I don’t know if you’re on the floo network, I’m not, but Marlene said I could pop around to hers to use their fireplace. If not, I can always do it the old-fashioned way and take a bus. I hope you have a great summer Rem; you deserve it. Lils._

Immediately, Remus pulled his trunk up onto his bed and flopped the lid open, digging around for some spare parchment and a quill before the owl flew away. He scribbled his message back and latched it onto the bird quickly –

_Lily, bloody hell, you’re quick off the mark aren’t you! Yes, I’d love to meet up with you. We’re on the floo network, so you’re welcome to come here. I can show you around the coastline here, it really is beautiful. Does a week Wednesday work for you? Remus._

After Lily’s owl left the crooked windowsill, Remus lumbered off his seat at the foot of his bed and began to refold clothes from his trunk and slotted them into their places. His room was an odd mix of magical and muggle. The walls were decorated with unmoving posters of muggle bands showcasing his eclectic taste which he had inherited from his Mam.

Queen, Bowie, Pink Floyd, Fleetwood Mac; he could enjoy them all. Between these posters he had framed and hung numerous photos of himself and his friends, who smiled and waved back at him. Remus’ favourite picture was smack bang in the center of the wall, nestled safely between album posters of ‘Ziggy Stardust’ and ‘Rumours’.

He walked the few small paces it took him to cross his snug bedroom to take a closer look. It was the four Marauders, taken on their first trip to Hogsmeade in their third year of school. They all stood huddled closely together, arms around each other’s shoulders. They were all wrapped up warm in their hats, scarves and gloves, the bobbles on the top their hats covered with a thick layer of snow.

Pete was stood on the one end, his arm linked around James. He was caught laughing in this picture, his crooked front teeth on full show as he glanced between his friends and the person taking the photo. James had his big arms wrapped tightly around Peter and Remus, pulling both as close to him as possible. His original pose of crossed eyes and tongue stuck out of his mouth quickly vanished as he collapsed into a fit of giggles. His perfect rows of straight white teeth dazzled, and the size of his smile made his eyes small and squinty. You could see the untamable mess of hair poking out beneath his hat, but James couldn’t care less. He was so endearing in this image, Remus thought. All the joy that he naturally carried with him radiated out of his face, out of the picture and into the eye of the beholder.

Remus looked now to himself, who was nestled into the crook of James’ arm, despite the fact that he was a little taller than him. The picture had been taken a few days after a full moon, so he hadn’t regained all of his strength yet. He had dark circles beneath his eyes and a new claw mark just poking up from under the collar of his jumper. But, by looking at this picture, you would never guess that Remus had such a dark secret. He looked like any other teenage boy; happy and carefree. His eyes glinted with happiness as he looked between his friends and a huge smile split through his face as James let out his burst of laughter.

Finally, Remus shifted his gaze to Sirius. Of course, he looked perfect. His chiseled jaw and high cheekbones made him effortlessly good-looking and his thick, ebony hair always seemed to fall just right. But Sirius didn’t pout like some poser, instead he pulled his ears out and puffed up his cheeks, as well as crossing his eyes like James. Remus recalled that this was his go to ‘silly face’.

Just as James fell into his fits of giggles, Sirius lost his resolve too, breathing out a happy sigh and letting his arm fall around Remus’ shoulders too. He lent into him, his eyes flicking up to Remus’ smiling face. Many times, Remus had watched Sirius’ expression change as his eyes fell onto his face. He tried to work out what the expression meant. His eyes softened, his lips pulled themselves upwards into a genuine and affectionate smile, before he tore his gaze away to smile brightly back at the camera, before the moving picture reset and started the whole scene again.

When he was younger and more naïve, Remus had almost convinced himself that the look Sirius gave him was one of love, but he knew better than that now. Padfoot was the heartthrob of the school, he flirted with girls on the daily. Even if he did swing that way, he could have any guy he wanted. Surely, he wouldn’t choose the battered werewolf for a boyfriend.

Before he could dwell too long on it, Remus shook his head, smiled fondly at the picture, and returned to packing away his belongings.

……………………..……………………..

Da had been right – the weather had been beautiful. Often, Remus would return home to find nothing but grey drizzle and stormy seas, but the whole time that he had been home, the Welsh coastline and countryside had looked nothing but stunning. Today was the day Lily was coming to visit, and Remus couldn’t have hoped for a better day to showcase his hometown. The sky was a clear baby blue, with the occasional white whisp of clouds floating lazily along. The sea looked almost tropical, blues and greens rippled together to crash lightly onto the shores of soft white sand, littered with seashells. As Remus trapsed his was sleepily downstairs, he could hear his Mam busily working away in the kitchen.

“Morning Mam,” he yawned as he entered the small room, wearing his Pink Floyd t-shirt and checkered pajama bottoms. His bare feet padded across the stone floor as he poured himself a cup of coffee and leaned back across the counter to observe his Mam.

“Morning sunshine, are you excited?” she hardly stopped fussing with her baking to stop and look at him.

“Yeah, Lily is going to be here around ten, so not too long. What…what are you doing?” he asked curiously as steam billowed out from the over as Hope opened the door.

“Baking Welsh cakes of course, we can’t have you friend come over and not try any!” Hope said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. As Remus took another swig from his coffee, he sensed the nerves radiating from his Mam.

“You don’t have to worry yourself too much you know; Lily is really sweet. She won’t expect any fuss. We’ll probably be out walking for most of the day anyway.”

“Oh, yes, before I forget, I made you a picnic. It’s all packed up in the fridge, you’ll just need to pop it in the hamper- “she gestured to the wicker basket sat on the table, “-and grab the blankets from by the front door, okay? I…I did also get a bottle of white wine too, if you fancied that…” she said coyly. And it all clicked into place. Remus spluttered, choking on the sip of coffee he’d just taken.

“Mam! You…you know that me and Lily are just friends, right?”

“Well, you did say that, but I thought maybe…she’s the only friend of your Hogwarts lot that you’ve ever invited around! I thought she must be pretty special if that was the case…would be lovely to…if you did…well, I just thought…” she trailed off, mumbling nonsense. It was one of the rare occasions that Remus could recall of his mother getting bashful. He and his Da were tripping over their words almost constantly, but not his Ma. He felt an overwhelming swell of love erupt. He placed his mug down on the kitchen counter and scooped up his blushing mother into a hug.

She allowed a laugh to slip out at herself and returned the hug.

“She really is just a good friend Mam. She’s the only one who isn’t a pureblood too, so I guess I just feel more comfortable with her coming around. The boys would just want to play with the toaster all day if they came to visit.”

“Okay, okay…” she looked at him with a teasing smile, “You can still take the wine if you want, just don’t tell your Da,” she said with a cheeky wink. The two giggled before Remus made his was upstairs to get ready for Lily’s arrival.

He thought about what his Mam had said, about Lily being the first person from Hogwarts that he’d invited around. He hadn’t thought about it before, but he realised it was true. He’d been to stay at the Potter’s mansion a few times with all the boys but had never thought to invite them here. They were all used to their estates and house elves and all the other luxuries that were afforded to pureblood wizarding families. It just…didn’t make sense for them to come and stay here.

His mind wandered slowly to the Black family house, 12 Grimmauld Place. They had never been to visit, naturally, but Sirius had mentioned the ostentatious displays of wealth throughout the home. He’d described chandeliers ornated with precious black gems, the portraits of dead ancestors lining the walls, passing judgement on all those who walked by, plus the formal dining rooms for all the family’s galas. Not to mention the room which displayed the mounted heads of the dead house elves. The thought of it gave him shivers.

Remus had picked up his quill several times to write to Sirius, but when he put it to parchment, he couldn’t find the right words. Sirius hadn’t written to him yet, which he said he would, so Remus decided it was best to let him make the first move. Despite the pleasant train journey home, he still felt the awkwardness between them of words unsaid. Yes, best to let Sirius send the first owl, he decided.

The clock indicted that there was around ten minutes until Lily’s arrival, so he combed through his hair with his fingers in an attempt to style it and made his way downstairs. They hadn’t had anyone use the Floo network for a long time, so Lyall had made sure that the fireplace was open and clean for her arrival.

He’d come down to the beach yesterday once he was finished clearing the fireplace, setting Remus and Hope off into fits of uncontrollable laughter; he looked like a boy from Oliver Twist or something. His hair stood up at odd angles, coated in a thick black dust and his skin was smeared with the same dirt. He had ran forwards jokingly at the two, causing them to scarper away to keep away from him. He’d chosen his pray though, the slowest. Hope. He grabbed her from behind, wrapping her up in his arms and lifting her off the ground as he spun her around, squealing the whole time. Remus couldn’t breathe from laughing at his parents, who seemed to be as in love as ever. Hope escaped too much contamination by wiggling out of his grip and proceeded to chase him into the surf, pushing him hard to force Lyall into the deeper water.

“Wash yourself off before you come near me again!” she’d yelled. Lyall looked at her through his eyelashes and seemed to take this as a challenge. He turned around and ran until he was knee deep in water and dove into the waves. Remus and Hope squealed in delight and he emerged again, shaking his hair like a wet dog.

“Better?!” he yelled, scrubbing at his face.

He was now stood in front of the fireplace, a strong arm around Hope’s waist holding her sweetly. He pointed at the fireplace, which now had a new bowl next to it filled with Floo powder.

“-and then you just throw the powder down and it takes you there. Clever aye?”

“Bloody hell, I’ll say! Does it burn?”

“No, not at all. It actually kind of tickles.” Lyall said softly, looking at Hope’s screwed up face.

“Oh, well I won’t be using that then,” she said, the frown etched on her face at the mention of tickling. She hated it, and so did Remus. He’s almost punched James once to get him to stop.

“She’s not the queen guys, you don’t need to be here to welcome her,” he joked. They quickly dispersed, wanting to seem natural and welcoming. Remus plonked himself into the nearest armchair, somehow also feeling a little nervous now. The minutes passed slowly until the minute hand hit ten o’clock exactly and with a flash of green, Lily appeared in their living room.

“Punctual as ever, Evans,” he said, standing up from the chair to meet her. She giggled and pulled him into a warm hug, which he happily returned.

She broke the hug at the sound of awkward shuffling behind them, presumably coming from Lyall. Remus rolled his eyes internally and turned to see his Mam stood with a proud smile, one of her hands holding Da’s.

“Lily,” she said as she stepped forward to greet their guest. Lily went to meet her halfway but seemed to be caught off guard by the hug that Hope wrapped her up in. She smiled though and gladly hugged Hope back.

“It’s so nice to have one of Remus’ friends over! It’s almost like he wants to keep this little place a secret from everyone!” she joked, but Remus sensed an accusatory undertone to her statement.

“Well, I don’t know why,” Lily said pleasantly, “This is the sweetest home I’ve ever seen. It’s beautiful Mrs. Lupin,”

“Oh, please, it’s Hope. And this handsome fella,” she turned and beckoned his Da forward, “Is Lyall, Remus’ Da.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Lyall,” Lily flattered him, causing the awkwardness to return. Remus watched proudly though, as his Da hid his embarrassment well.

“Oh, well…t-the pleasure is all mine, Lily,” he shook her hand with a heartfelt smile.

After the tiniest moment of silence, Hope declared that she’d make tea. She refused Lily’s kind offer to help, she scurried off to the kitchen to prepare the refreshments, dragging a hopeless Lyall behind her.

“Remus, your house is amazing! It’s so…” she spun around the living room, taking in all its rustic charms, “…so quaint!” If anyone else had said it, he’d have thought that they were finding a diplomatic way of saying small or shabby or falling apart. But not Lily, she had nothing but goodness to offer, and if she said it, she meant it.

“Well, I aim to please,” he joked. The two chattered aimlessly about being home and seeing their families, until they made their way into the kitchen for more small talk with Lyall and Hope.

“Oh my God,” Lily said, covering her half-full mouth with her hands, eyes wide. “What are these Hope, they’re delicious!”

“Oh, they’re my own recipe for Welsh cakes!” she said, glowing with pride. “I’ve got dozens more back here, I’m afraid I made too many, why don’t you take some home with you, share them with your family?”

Remus watched fondly as his Mam and Da filled up with the warmth that Lily was offering. It was amazing to him, to watch his two different worlds combining right in front of his eyes. The next hour was filled with laughter and smiles and even some baby photos of Remus, much to his horror, until he finally found an excuse to drag Lily away from his parents.

He grabbed the picnic and blankets and hurried Lily out of the crooked back door before any more embarrassing albums made an appearance.

“Don’t go too far!” yelled Hope as both Remus and Lily waved goodbye as they made their way down the homemade path to the beach.

“God, Remus, this place is beautiful! You kept this gem all to yourself didn’t you,” she teased, giving him a playful shove as they found a sheltered place to sit. It was one of Remus’ favourite spots for contemplation. It was at the foot of a tall cliff, where the wind had battered away at a weak spot, causing the formation of a shallow yet tall cave-like hole in the side of the crag. It was still out on the beach, but the slightly deeper alcove into the rockface provided a comforting shelter from the harsh sea-breeze.

He laid out the blankets on the sand and placed the basket down next to them. The two had already kicked their shoes off and sat close together as he rifled around the picnic hamper.

“Ha, oh God. My Mam, she never takes the hint…” he pulled out the bottle of wine, chilled and wrapped up in a cooling bag.

“Oh, very romantic,” Lily tormented.

“Honestly, what is she like. I told her it was nothing like that, that we were only friends,” he breathed out a laugh, shaking his head at his Mam’s persistence. As he looked back to Lily, he noticed a flicker of grief cross her face. It was subtle, so subtle that he’d have missed it if he hadn’t glanced to her right at that moment. Her eyebrows furrowed just a little, and a sheen appeared in her eye to accompany the slight faulter in her smile.

“Yeah,” she said, “of course.” She fiddled with the hem of her dress, looking up determinedly to the sea. ‘Shit,’ Remus thought.

“We are just friends, right Lils?” he said, ducking his head to try and catch her eye. She faltered again, but looked at him now.

“Yes, love. Of course. I…” she trailed off, defaulting to fiddling with her skirt again. She took a deep breath, and so did Remus.

“I’ve liked you for a while Remus, but I have gathered that the feeling is not mutual. That our love will be platonic.” She looked at him now, straight in the eyes. He felt his face burning with embarrassment; how had he been so blind? A beautiful, intelligent and funny girl like Lily fancied him, and he hadn’t even clocked it?! ‘Idiot!’ he cursed at himself. She smiled and let out a fragile laugh at his shock.

“I-I…” he stuttered, “I had no idea Lily. Jeez…” he turned to face her, but couldn’t look her in the eyes, so faced the blanket beneath them once more. “You’re everything that I guy would look for, honestly but I…I’m just not really looking for a girlfriend.” Lily’s eyes were fixed on him, not wavering and not judging, just listening. He took a deep breath.

“I’ve never told anyone,” he said, “But I-I-I’m gay Lils.”

He peaked up through the mop of curls that had fallen into his eyes when he ducked his head down and saw the proud smile creep across Lily’s face. She sat up straight and pulled him in close, squeezing the air out of his lungs. He sat awkwardly in her arms until she let go and took a deep breath. He hadn’t realised he was crying, but quickly swiped away at the stray tear that had leaked from his eye. Lily politely pretended like she didn’t notice.

“I’m so proud of you, love. You really haven’t told anyone else?” He shook his head, afraid that the wobble in his voice might give him away if he spoke now. “It’s okay Remus. I’m happy that you trust me enough to tell me. Do you want to talk about it, or is there someone you like...” she asked tentatively. 

“No, thanks Lils. I think just saying it out loud is enough for one day,” he laughed quietly. She nodded, respecting his wishes completely. She took his hand in her own and they sat in companionable silence for a while before she broke it. 

“There is something else too. I…I uhh…” she trailed off, seemingly trying to get her resolve back. It was her turn to spill some secrets. “I might have had a slight change of heart about James too…” she said quietly. Remus’ head shot up at this, causing her to giggle and blush herself.

“Bloody hell Lily, this is turning into the wildest conversation I’ve ever had” he sighed, wiping the beads of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

“It only happened a couple of weeks ago! It came out of nowhere - BAM! Before that, you were my sole crush but now…oh God, Remus you can’t tell him! Please, he’ll be insufferable!” He howled with laughter and Lily joined in, the two of them clutched at their stomachs as they rolled around on the sandy blanket.

The rest of the day was much like that, the two spilled their guts to each other. Well, Remus told her everything other than his furry little problem. He knew that he would, soon, but there had been quite enough revelations for one day. They’d walked over the rugged hills and into the small town of Aberporth, Remus treating them to ice cream. By the time they sauntered back along the beach to Galwad-y-Môr, the wine had been drunk, the twilight was creeping in and their day together was coming to an end.

Remus smiled at Lily as he took her hand in his own, the picnic basket swinging from his other. They looked at each other and smiled tenderly.

“You know Lils, I’m glad you were the first of my Hogwarts friends to come here. This might be up there as one of the best days of my life.” Lily hung on his every word.

“Yeah, I think it was one of the best days of my life too.”

Both of them had wavy hair thanks to the sea salt in the air and Lily’s nose had gone a little bit pink in the summer sun. The two had a strip of freckles now covering their noses and cheeks.

Lyall and Hope were both sat in the garden when they arrived home, ready with questions about their day. Just before the sun set fully, Lily thanked them both for their wonderful hospitality and expressed her hope to see them again soon. Lyall and Hope beamed back at her, saying their goodbyes.

With that, Lily and Remus went inside, brushing off the sand at the door, and made a beeline straight for the fireplace.

“Remus, today was perfect. Thank you so much. You can come and visit me any time too, but you’ll need to get the Floo to Marlene’s house, obviously,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

“I’d love to,” he replied, before pulling her in for a deep hug. “And thank you for being so sweet to my parents. Da is awkward like me most of the time and Mam, well, she’s always felt a little bit out of her depth with this whole magic thing. I’m so glad you’re the first person they met properly from school.” Lily beamed at this.

“They’re perfect Remus, really. I think I like them more than I like you,” she laughed, jabbing him in the side with a playful elbow. She scooped up a handful of Floo powder and stood snuggly in the fireplace.

“Write to me, we’ll organise a day for you to come to see me in London, okay?”

“Okay,” he smiled, as did she.

“Meadows Mansion!” The green flames engulfed her, and he stood alone in the front room. Remus smiled to himself, genuinely happy, bursting with love for his friend, and bursting with pride for himself. He did it. He’d told someone his scariest secret.

Still high from his happiness from the day, he journeyed back to the garden. He finished off the perfect day with the most pleasant evening, drinking hot chocolate with his Mam and Da, listening to stories, hearing the distant waves crash to shore and enjoying their company. He was so happy, and right now, in the blissful sanctuary of his home, Remus Lupin was perfectly contented.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of Welsh in here for you! Cwtch, as I've mentioned before, is the welsh word a cuddle, but an affectionate one. 
> 
> Aberporth is a real place, it's very cute and on the Pembrokeshire Coast in Wales. 
> 
> Welsh cakes are AMAZING, just imagine that a digestive and scone had a baby, that's what a Welsh cake is. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter - let me know what you think in the comments. I hope that my next chapter will be up a lot quicker, I've just been swamped the last week or so :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in this chapter - I've been so busy but didn't want to rush this!
> 
> TW for child abuse, violence, some description of injury. 
> 
> Not an overly happy chapter guys, so maybe if you're not feeling too great you could leave this one out until you're feeling better. Take care of yourselves!

Sirius awoke early the next morning. He was exhausted; he’d been too busy tossing and turning to get a decent night’s sleep. Any brief moments that his brain did let his eyes fall shut and allow him to drift into sleep, the refuge of peaceful sleep was denied. He dreamt of tattoos and masks and blood.

The Marauders would attest that Sirius would normally heave himself out of bed around midday, but due to the fact he’d been trying to please his parents, he’d forced himself to get up at 9am every morning. He had even asked one of the house elves, Wolbey, to come and wake him at that time every day. He turned to check the time on his pocket watch, which lay on his bedside table, and saw that it was only 7.15am. Despite his earlier than normal mornings this far, surely his parents would be suspicious if he bounded out of bed at this time.

So, he forced himself lay there, running through all the different possibilities that could happen tonight. The letter could be innocent, meaning that he’d succumbed to the paranoia he’d been battling with since Reggie taunted him in school. Of course, the more likely version of events would be that he found the letter, which intended to commit him to a lifetime of heresy, and he would need to make a decision. Would he stay, would he defy and fight his parents, beg them to reconsider? Or would he finally do what he’d longed to do all these years and leave. God, he wished so much that he could just leave, even now. His head screamed at him – ‘do it now, no one is around! Run for it!’. But Reggie…how could he leave his little brother in the clutches of these people.

He hoped that when confronted with the letter, the decision would be easy. The words on the page would either be so unimportant or so foul that Sirius would know instantly what would be necessary.

As he was deep in thought, he didn’t notice the door begin to open, ever so slowly. He didn’t notice the footsteps, that crept closer and closer to his bed.

“Master Sirius?” the voice came just as the light fingers brushed against his hand.  
“AHHH!” Sirius screamed, startled by the sound and the hand on his own. His body leapt involuntarily off the bed and his heart hammered in his chest. He’d been so consumed by his thoughts he had no idea that Wolbey had entered his room.

“Master Sirius! Please forgive me, sir!” the poor house elf squeaked, eyes wide in terror and his hands clasped loosely in front of him in a sign of apology. He backed away pitifully, dressed in an old sheet, which was littered with holes. As Sirius regained his composure, he noticed the fear radiating from Wolbey and turned to reassure him with a gentle laugh.

“Wolbey, oh it’s you!” he said lightly, trying to quell the house elf’s anguish. “No, there is nothing to forgive Wolbey, thank you for coming to wake me, is it that time already?” Sirius pulled the sheets back from his body and let his legs swing over the side of his bed. He was wearing only striped shorts to bed, so his torso remained exposed. He never did this in school, too afraid of what people would say if they saw the thin lines of scars that peppered his back from his floggings, courtesy of his parents.

“Sorry, sir. Yes, sir, it is 9am precisely. Can I get you anything else Master Black?” he asked kindly. Of course, he was not offering out of the goodness of his heart, he was enslaved in his house. A prisoner, much like himself, Sirius realised. He felt awful suddenly. He was planning a potential escape, and he would be leaving behind so many who would not have the same opportunity. He looked up and made eye contact with Wolbey, he quickly averted his gaze.

“No, I don’t need anything Wolbey. But actually, I wouldn’t mind if…” he trailed off, wondering if it was the best idea.  
“Yes, Master Black? Wolbey would be happy to help, in whatever way he can, sir,” he smiled, and it made Sirius’ stomach turn. How could he be happy in a life of servitude? Well, it wasn’t happiness, so much as utter terror, he supposed.

“Would...would you come and sit with me? Maybe we could talk, I don’t know anything about you Mr. Wolbey, and I’ve known you for years.” Sirius watched at the confusion spread across his face; he was torn between his duties and following Sirius’ orders.

“If that is what Master Black wants, then of course,” he said in a squeaky voice. Sirius gestured to his school trunk, which sat opposite the bed. He thought Wolbey would feel better sitting there; it was lower, so it was easier for him to reach, but also maybe not as formal as sitting on the bed. He trotted over, still confused, but sat, nonetheless.

Sirius shook his head at the situation, realizing that as he sat higher up on the bed, he looked like he was lording over the house elf, so he lowered himself to the ground and lent his back against his bed. Wolbey was watching on like Sirius had lost his mind.

“So, uhh, Wolbey, tell me about yourself,” he said, cringing at the awkwardness of it all.  
“I live to serve The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, Master Sirius,” he said with absolute certainty. A small smile even slid onto his face as he finished the sentence.

“Oh, uh, yes of course, but I mean, what do you like, what do you dislike?” Wolbey looked confused and sat silently, but after a moment seemed to contemplate the question.  
“Well, I like to prune the flower bushes in the garden. Wolbey likes to be outside, sir. But I don’t like going into Master Orion’s study. Wolbey thinks it’s dark in there and- “ he stopped, frozen, the hint of a smile slipped from his face. His eyes we wide with shock and fear.

“Master Sirius, Wolbey-Wolbey didn’t mean it! Wolbey should never have spoken ill of his family!” he stood up, panicked, pacing the room.  
“Wolbey, no, it’s fine, I hate my Father’s office too it- “  
“No, no, no, no!” he hissed, his large head buried in his tiny hands. He was sobbing now, uncontrollable streams of tears rolling down his face. Sirius felt horrible. He knelt down in front of the house elf and held him by his tiny shoulders.

“Wolbey please! Please listen to me!” he said in an authoritative yet kind voice, tones hushed to avoid his parent’s attention. “It is okay! It’s okay…” he held Wolbey in his arms as he cried, shushing him and rubbing his skinny back with his hand, like he’d always wished his Mother had done for him when he cried.

He felt terrible, he’d done this.

After a while, Wolbey’s sniffling stopped and he stood up straight. He still didn’t reach Sirius’ height, even as he knelt now on his knees.

“N-never h-h-has a…Master-r been so-o ki-kind to Wo-Wolbey s-sir,” he hiccupped. He looked fully at Sirius now, noticing the battle scars for the first time. “I ha-have heard that Mr. and M-Mrs. Black can treat you ba-badly sometimes, M-Master Sirius,” he said softly. Sirius didn’t know what to think about this comment, but the kindness in Wolbey’s eyes made him nod his head.

“Wolbey knows, sir, h-how that hurts. I-if you need help, M-Master Sirius, I am the b-best house elf in the Black household for f-first aid. Y-you call me anytime and I-I will be there to serve you s-sir. The k-kindest wizard I ha-have ever met.” With that he wiped his tears away with the grubby end of his sheet, turned around and left, leaving Sirius alone.

As he knelt on the floor in the middle of his room, Sirius realised that that was the kindest thing that anyone had ever offered to do for him inside of this house. His head swam with emotion, but he forced himself up off the ground and stood tall, trying to shake away pain he felt. Only then did he feel the tears on his cheeks that had slipped from his eyes.

……………………………………….

Sirius tried to occupy his mind throughout the day. He attempted to complete some of the transfiguration homework that Professor McGonagall had set for the summer break, but he couldn’t focus. His stomach churned. Playing wizard’s chess with Regulus seemed to help take his mind off the upcoming evening, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that shrouded him like a fog.

As the night crept closer, his impatience grew. The anxiety of waiting twisted up his insides and played games with his minds. As he dressed for dinner, he could hardly bare it any longer. As he buttoned up his shirt he glanced at the loose floorboard near the head of his bed. Sirius looked to his door, chewing his lip nervously before scurrying quickly to retrieve his half of the mirror that he shared with James.

“James?” he called quietly, still peeking back to the door to ensure his privacy remained intact. There was no response. ‘Go figure,’ Sirius thought, he still was yet to receive a single letter from any of the Marauders. He didn’t want to give up hope though.

“Prongs?” he almost pleaded this time, desperate now to tell someone about what he intended to do. If something went terribly wrong, someone ought to know what had been going through Sirius’ head right around now. He kept calling for another minute or so, but the only thing to greet him was his own terrified reflection. He sighed and tucked the mirror back into its hiding spot.

He struggled to finish dressing as his trembling fingers refused to cooperate. He needed to calm down, or his plan would be over before it began. Studying his reflection in front of him, he tried to find his composure. Once he felt marginally calmer, he made his way downstairs.

He was halfway down the stairs when he heard it. The undeniable cackling of his cousin, the wicked laughter he heard in his nightmares. He felt the colour drain from his face; Bellatrix was here.

“Oh Merlin,” he heard from behind him. Neither of the brother’s liked Bellatrix, but Reggie could tolerate her madness. From a young age, Sirius and Bellatrix had been at each other’s throats, fighting and arguing over anything and everything they could think of. Their opinions were opposites in every way.

When Sirius was seven, he put salt in her tea instead of sugar. She got him back by using the incarcerous charm on him, leaving him tied up in the basement of 12 Grimmauld Place for the entirety of the family function. When Kreature had finally found him, his wrists and ankles were raw and bleeding from his attempts to escape. His Mother had laughed and congratulated Bellatrix on summoning such powerful bindings.

When he was ten, Sirius put a muggle ‘whoopie cushion’ under her seat in the drawing room. In retaliation, Bellatrix had used the Expulso curse to blow up the kitchen table he was sat at with two house elves. This incident left Sirius with a shard of wood lodged in his shoulder and no hearing in his left ear for a week. It left one of the house elves dead. She was reprimanded for this one; the curse left irreversible singe marks on the kitchen ceiling which Orion was displeased about.

During her last visit, when Sirius was 15, he stayed out of her way and did nothing to anger her. He thought that saying “Your hair is looking more and more like Hagrid’s every day,” would have been taken as a compliment, but alas, it was not.

She had paralysed Sirius with a full body bind, his body slammed to the floor like his was made of lead, the breath knocked out of his lungs. He could only watch in horror as she approached him slowly, cunningly. She stood next to his frozen body and seemed to consider her options. Before he could even release his breath, she had stretched one leg over Sirius, and lowered herself down to her knees, drawing her face close to his own.

She sat, straddled over him, her body inches from his own. His eyes were wide in terror; he was so frightened of what she would do.

“You know, Sirius, when we marry, you’ll have to learn to control yourself. I will not tolerate this behaviour from my husband,” she teased in a sing-song voice, dragging her wand down his face, leaving a angry red scratch in its wake. “Oh, haven’t you heard yet? Whoopsie!” She cackled that monstrous laugh and rose to her feet once more.

“It’s inevitable Sirius, I’d get used to the idea if I were you. There are only a few more years until you’re of age.” As she turned to leave, a house elf had scurried over to the still paralysed Sirius to help him. She lashed out at it, kicking it squarely in its chest sending it flying backwards.

“LEAVE HIM!” she roared. He lay there for what felt like hours, but could only have been minutes, trying to make sense of what she had just said. It was a common occurrence in the Black family, to marry relatives to maintain the pureblood status, but he would rather die.

He and his Mother and Father had had blazing rows for the remainer of the Christmas break about her cruel taunts, but he had made his stance clear; he would not be marrying Bellatrix. For once, they seemed to allow his point of view to be heard. They didn’t agree per say, but they didn’t push like they did with everything else that they argued about. He took this as a win.

He felt more able to face her now, but the threat was constant when she was around. The madness twinkled in her eye like stars; she was dangerous, and everyone knew it.

Deep in thought about what this meant for his plan, Sirius remained rooted in place. Regulus passed him, looking at him questioningly.

“Wha-what’s she d-doing here?” he stuttered, cursing himself for letting his mask fall before he had even made it to the dining room.

“She’s over for dinner I guess…” Reggie observed him, looking him up and down. Sirius tried to regain so composure, to feign irritation rather than fear. He followed closely behind Regulus as he led them into the dining room to join his parents and his cousin. He tried to avoid eye contact, to keep his head down, but he knew that wouldn’t be ignored for long.

“Welcome your cousin,” Walburga snapped, cold and stern.  
“Hello cousin,” the brothers said in unison, pulling out their seats to sit at the table. Bellatrix said nothing in return, but Sirius could feel her stare burning into his head. He kept his eyes focused on his Father, who sat across from him. He sat with a small, calculated smile on his lips, like he knew a secret that everyone else wanted to know.

“Are you excited, Sirius?” Bellatrix asked, slowly and teasingly. His eyes flicked now to his hands, which tentatively played with the cutlery laid out before him.

“Excited for what, Bellatrix?” he replied, putting on his best ‘pureblood’ accent. Perhaps his eloquence lessons had not been such a waste after all. He saw his cousin, from the corner of his eye, lean back in her chair and place her foot up on her chair. ‘Elegant as always’ he thought. He heard his Mother sigh in displeasure at her actions, but she made no move to chastise her.

“Well, what with your time at Hogwarts almost over you’ll be free to explore the full opportunities available to you in the wizarding world. It’s a…time of change,” she giggled. “A time of progression for people like us.” Sirius could feel her gaze inspecting him, waiting for a sign of opposition. He gave her none.

“Indeed it is, cousin,” he muttered, sipping on his wine. When he lowered the glass, he saw the glint of approval in his father’s eyes. It knocked the air out of his lungs. The last time he had seen this look was when he was six and had used wordless magic to pull the chair out from under Bellatrix as she went to take a seat. He felt a swell of warmth spread through his chest now at the appreciation from his Father. He sat up a little straighter and held his head a little higher. ‘This must be how James feels all the time,’ he thought. But the initial happiness he felt faded quickly; his Father was proud of something Sirius was lying about, he was proud of an opinion Sirius didn’t hold.

Bellatrix let her foot slip from the seat, clearly disappointed that Sirius didn’t rise to the bait, but the small victory did nothing to ease Sirius’ nerves. He drank more wine, willing the tremors in his hands to stop before anyone saw them.

The dinner passed painstakingly slowly. Bellatrix and his parents filled the tense room with stories of family members and friends that they shared. Sirius stopped himself from visibly cringing on a number of occasions at the use of slurs and derogatory slandering of people he knew. Good people.

They laughed at the deaths of muggle-borns and half-bloods, toasting to the continuation of such abominations. They preached about the superiorities of pureblood wizards and witches. They praised the work of dark magicians, calling them heroes, calling them saints. They drank to the legacy of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Between all of this, they paid no mind to Sirius’ shaking hands, the paleness of his complexion or the beads of sweat that gathered on his brow.

As the dinner drew to a close, Sirius noticed how much wine his parents and Bellatrix had gone through. This would either bode well for him, or terribly. He began to fret, what if they kept drinking with Bellatrix until late this evening? How would he retrieve the letter? In a frenzied state of panic, Sirius knew he had to alter his plans. Straight after dinner, he would collect the correspondence. He’d find out his fate and decide how to deal with it.

He held his hands tightly in his lap, praying for his release from the table. It came, few short minutes later.

“Thank you. Good night Mother, Father. I enjoyed your company, Bellatrix. I’ll see you again soon.” Sirius hoped he had sounded convincing but didn’t stick around to find out. His legs carried him in along the corridor, towards the parlour room. Towards the letter.

“What was all that?” Regulus asked. Sirius jumped out of his skin, spinning around in an instant, startling Reggie in return. He looked him up and down with a bemused smile on his face, the importance of the moment eluding him. “You hate Bellatrix! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you tolerate her for five minutes before, let alone a whole dinner!”

“Ha, yeah. W-well your big brother is growing up, isn’t he Reg,” he laughed awkwardly. “I’ll catch up with you in a second okay, I just need to ask Kreature something,” Sirius reluctantly turned away from the parlour room, pretending to head towards the kitchen instead, until he heard Regulus sigh and proceed upstairs.

He returned to the door of the room that held his fate. His hand hovered above the doorknob. Maybe if he didn’t look, he could remain blissfully ignorant about what was to come. Maybe it would never happen at all, if he pretended it didn’t exist.

He took a deep breath, and knowing that this impossible, he twisted the handle and stepped inside.

The soft click rang out as he shut the door quietly behind him. He stood motionless for a moment, before he cursed himself. ‘This is a time sensitive mission, damn it!’

He threw himself into survival mode and crossed the room in a second. He slid the draw open and saw a dozen letters there before him. ‘Shit,’ he thought. He’d have to rifle through until he found the one he needed. Frantic now, he thumbed through the correspondences in the draw, but stilled quickly. They were all for him.

He recognised James’ scrawling writing, Peter’s smudged letters from his left hand dragging over the ink before it had dried. He thought there was even one from Lily too; her ‘I’s were dotted with tiny love hearts. Against his better judgement, he collected them all and shoved them hastily into his back pocket. He tried not to dwell on the fact that he hadn’t noticed Remus’ handwriting in the pile of letters.

But suddenly, nothing else mattered. He knew that he had found what he was looking for before he had even read the letter. The Malfoy stamp sat boldly on the envelope. Everyone knew that Lucius Malfoy had become one of the most trusted Death Eaters in Voldemort’s army. ‘Take it and run!’ Sirius’ brain shouted at him, but he couldn’t wait another second. He tore the letter out of the envelope and read:

_Mr. and Mrs. Black,_

_We thank you for your loyalty and dedication to the cause. Having a powerful pureblood family like The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black on The Dark Lord’s side will be most beneficial. Of course, we do not need to you prove your allegiance to us, as we require from so many. We are aware of your persistent and honorable attempts to remain true to the Dark Arts. Lord Voldemort is honoured at your pledge to follow him. However, we do require that your son, Sirius, demonstrates his loyalty. The Dark Lord is particularly interested to examine the boy; he has heard that he is a powerful wizard and fiercely dependable companion to those he befriends. Lord Voldemort will accompany myself and a selection of other Death Eaters to your home next Saturday night to induct the boy, once he had shown his dedication to the cause. We will bring a muggle with us, this will be Sirius’…test. Should he be successful, he will be marked. Lord Voldemort will decide whether Sirius will accompany him or remain in your residence. Should he fail, the boy will know too much. It will be your responsibility to deal with him, and you will be thorough. I expect this is understood._

_Thank you again for your faithfulness,_

_Lucius Malfoy._

He had run through a thousand possibilities in his head, but nothing he had imagined had been this bad. His vision swam as he clamped a hand firmly on the table in front of him, trying to regain his balance. He screwed up the paper and shoved it into his pocket and moved.

Leaving the open draw behind, he threw the door open and found himself keeling over in the middle of the corridor, sucking in deep breaths to try and fill his panting lungs. Any composure that he had managed to regain was quickly lost again at the sight of his cousin. Bellatrix stood before him at the door to the dining room, and fresh bottle of red wine grasped in her hand. A face splitting smile tore through her face. He didn’t have time to watch her though, he didn’t have time to see if she could put two and two together. He needed his wand, his mirror and the bag he had packed. He needed Reggie too, they both had to leave. Now.

He took their stairs two at a time, the curses of the long-dead ancestors falling on deaf ears. He’d get his things first, he thought, and the drag Reggie with him. Sirius all but fell into his room, the adrenalin was surging through his body at this point. He threw open the doors to his wardrobe and grabbed the life he’d packed into one pitiful bag. He had really hoped that he wouldn’t really need it, but now he was beyond thankful that he had packed. He’d included a few changes of clothes, including the Queen shirt Remus had gifted him. He had his favourite photos in there too, plus some money, both wizarding and muggle.

He threw the bag onto his bed and shoved his wand into the waistband of his trousers. He flung himself onto his hands and knees to claw up the floorboards to retrieve his mirror. His fingernails tore at the wood, but in his frantic desperation, he couldn’t seem to get ahold of it.

“Sirius,” his Mother’s icy voice called. He froze. Sirius knew in that moment, that his parents had never truly cared for him. They never wanted what was best for him, only what was best for the Black name. He had always hoped that there was a slither of love in their hearts for him somewhere, if only a primal instinct to care for one’s young.

He abandoned his attempts to collect his mirror, stood slowly and turned to face the evil that stood before him. Walburga waited, anger carved into every line on her twisted face. Her hand was already gripping her wand tightly, ready for a fight. Orion stood slightly behind her; his face masked in an unreadable expression as always. His arched eyebrow seemed to indicate irritation, but it could have just as easily been nausea. Bellatrix, on the other hand, was almost hopping on the spot. She must have been giddy with delight, Sirius thought. The delirious smile seemed to indicate as much.

“You’ve been trespassing,” Walburga whispered. All the efforts that Sirius had gone to to be civil over the summer came to a shuddering halt. He didn’t care, they were going to sell him to Voldemort anyway, so he might as well fight. The sarcastic snort of laughter at his Mother’s statement seem to incite the rage he was after, her wand shifting in her hand.

“Trespassing? Mother, this is my house too, how could I possibly be trespassing?” He asked with mock confusion. The sarcasm dripped from his words and Bellatrix lapped it up, gaze shifting between Sirius and Walburga, excited for the show.  
“Give me back what belongs to me, boy,” she hissed, eyes wide with indignation.  
“No Mother, I think you’ll find that letter is mine. It is, after all, discussing my fate.” He felt the letter burning a hole in his pocket, much like his Mother’s stare was burning a hole through his face.

“You can give me the letter, Sirius, or I make you give it to me. What would you prefer?” A smile crossed her lips now. A malicious, wicked smile. He stood silent for a moment; the only sound to be heard was the echoing ticks of the grandfather clock. Sirius reached up to his pocket, hoping his parents had not yet spotted the wand tucked into the waistband of his trousers. He’d angled himself just right, he thought, so that it would remain concealed. As his trembling fingers reached the pocket, he allowed himself to whip his hand backwards, snatching his wand. The movement had been elegant and fluid. His Mother’s eyes widened.

“Petrifi- “  
“Expelliarmus,” Orion spoke. Red sparks blinded Sirius and his wand flew out of his hand, into the grasp of his Father. Bellatrix squealed with delight. Sirius froze, the fear took over. This was a mistake; he should have run.  
“Bombarda!”

Pain erupted in Sirius’ chest before he was thrown backwards by the force of his Mother’s spell. His body connected with the wooden desk in his room, the wood splintered and collapsed around him at the force of the impact. His head throbbed and he desperately struggled to suck the air into his lungs. He clambered around, winded, trying to find his footing. He writhed on the floor moaning, the pain from his shoulder shot through his body.

His Father stepped forward, looking down at him. Sirius closed his eyes to brace himself for the next attack. It didn’t come. Instead, Orion bent down to meet the struggling boy and offered him a hand. Sirius stared at it, confused. He declined it, choosing to struggle to his feet on his own. His jaw was clenched, and his teeth were set in a defiant glare at his family. He straightened up holding himself tall and proud. Bellatrix let out another haunting cackle, and his Mother smirked, amused as much as his cousin.

“You’re being presented with a great opportunity boy,” Orion stated. His grey eyes were dark, his lips were pressed into a tight line.  
“No, this is your opportunity,” he spat, looking between his parents now, “And I’ll die before I bow down to him. Before I bow down to you- “Sirius was cut off by the blow to his face.

The sound of the strike rebounded through the room, the violent sound of flesh meeting flesh. The force of the punch knocked Sirius back down to the ground, falling back into the debris of the desk, blood gushing from the new slice that cut through the bridge of his nose and more blood poured from his nostrils. His Father had never hit him before, he realised as he lay at his feet. He claimed that physical fighting was undignified, all conflicts should be resolved using magic, but never fists. “We are wizards, not muggle scum,” Sirius recalled him preaching.

He couldn’t help it when the tears welled up into his eyes, no more than he could help the trembling of his lip. The strike had hurt him, but the expression that his Father wore cut him to the core. The normally impassive face of his Father was contorted by hate and loathing. He knew in that moment that he would not escape this by appealing to their better nature.

Sirius’ mind raced. How – how – would he get out of this one? His Father turned back to Walburga and spoke in hushed tones, Bellatrix’s face lighting up at whatever they were discussing. Sirius knew this may be his only chance. He span around, crawling across his floor to where his mirror was hidden.

His shuffling had drawn the attention of Bellatrix, who watched, interestedly, with her head cocked to one side. As he slipped his nails beneath the cracks and finally pried up the floorboard, she nudged Orion, nodding her head to Sirius’ direction.

Sirius noticed, and frantically reached into the hole to pull out the mirror. His Father ran at him, his face a picture of rage.  
“PRONGS! JAMES, PLEASE- “he shouted desperately. Orion grabbed him by the collar of his shirt from behind and dragged him up off the floor, choking him in the process.

“James I- argh – plea- h-h-help,” he choked out, not letting go of the mirror, the sharp edges bit into his hands. His Father had not let go of his collar, his grip equally as desperate as Sirius’, and he his breathing faulter. His vision swam and black spots clouded his sight.

“J-James…” he cried. The mirror fell from his grip and lay besides him, drops of blood flecked the lifeline. His weak hands clawed at his neck, trying and failing to pull the tightened collar away from his throat. His eyes drifted shut, and his flailing limbs stilled. ‘So, this is how I die? Grim…’.

Suddenly, Orion released him. His limp body fell to the floor with a thud and the sounds of him gasping for breath roared in his ears. He sucked the air into his lungs, choking and coughing and spluttering. Against his better judgement he reached for the mirror again. His Father chuckled before stamping the solid heel of his Oxfords down on his fingers.

Sirius felt the bones crunch and the skin split, but he refused to scream. He refused to give them the satisfaction. Even as his Father twisted his heel, pushing down further on his fingers, Sirius kept quiet. Blood filled his mouth as he bit down hard on his tongue.

“Bring him downstairs Orion,” Walburga had said. Orion grabbed Sirius by the front placket of his shirt, dragging him viciously alongside him. He hadn’t given Sirius the chance to find his feet, so he found himself being half dragged and half stumbling across the upstairs corridor.

Sirius wracked his brain. How could he escape, what could he do?! He felt so helpless, so terrified; it was like he was a little boy again. As Orion continued to drag him along the corridor he began to fight back. He grabbed his Father’s hand. He pulled and tugged and fought to no avail; he was too weak.

“Father…” Orion stopped. Regulus. Sirius swiveled his head around to face Regulus, his eyes wide and desperate.  
“Regulus!” he begged, before his Father quickly moved them on again. “Regulus please! Reggie, hel-help!” He stood frozen, terrified in his doorframe.  
“I need Prongs, Reggie! Please ge- “he was quietened by sharp slap to his already stinging face and pulled further away from his little brother. He tried fighting his Father again, to no avail.

He was so engrossed in trying to free himself from Orion’s grip that he hardly noticed their arrival in the parlour room. Orion threw him to the floor, anger radiating from every pore. Walburga put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him backwards, ready and braced to take over from him.

Her expression was different to Orion’s; it haunted Sirius more. It was…enjoyment, excitement…eagerness. She knelt down next to his abused form on the ground and cupped his chin in her hand. He lifted it up and stared into his soul.

“You’ll do what we say. You’ll do it with dignity, or you’ll do it under the Imperius curse. I’ll leave the choice up to you, son.” The last word was spat out, like it was a slur. He mustered all the hatred he could and pushed it into his expression. She stood up and stood back, considering her next move.

She raised her wand and smiled.

“Crucio.”

The scream he’d been so desperate to keep in exploded from his lips. The pain was unfathomable. Sirius felt like his limbs were being torn open, his body was being set alight. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t think, he could only scream. Until it stopped. His chest heaved up and down; all his fight was gone. He lay there, silent and broken. He turned to face his parents, his cousin, only to be greeted with smiles and pride.

“Crucio,” Orion cursed.

“Crucio,” Bellatrix laughed.

“Crucio,” Walburga repeated.

One after the other they cursed him. They took it in turns, like children waiting to be ‘it’ on the playground.

The agony was relentless, unforgiving. It did not discriminate; the pain attacked every fiber of his being. Sirius felt the blood gurgle in his throat as the screams ripped through the flesh. He felt his fingernails rip from his skin as he clawed at the wooden floor in desperation. He felt the bitter sting of tears running down his face.

When at last the torture ended, Sirius had no energy, no awareness of the discussions happening besides him. He lay limp on the ground, wishing that the darkness clouding his vision would take him already. Sirius felt lost, he felt agonising betrayal. How could his parents, his own Mother and Father, do this to him? They were torturing him, using curses that were deemed unforgivable. They were doing something to their own child that he would never dream of doing to even his worst enemy. They had broken him, utterly and completely destroyed him. As he lay there with hot tears dripping down his face onto the floor, writhing in pain, he hoped that Reggie was locked safely in his room. He prayed that he had sent an owl to the Potter's house. It was the only way he'd escape this hellish nightmare now. 

Suddenly, he felt the hard floor beneath him disappear and cringed away from the touch of his Mother. Her hand had wound its way into his hair, gripping so tightly Sirius was convinced she was trying to pull it out from the roots. She had always hated his long mane. Her other hand moved now to his throat, choking the struggling breath out of him once more.

She pulled him roughly and directed him out into the corridor. He felt pathetic, limping after her, hardly able to remain on his feet. She barged through the kitchen with her bloodied heir and ignored the terrified stares of the house elves. The door before them at the back of the kitchen flew open and Walburga channeled all of her energy, all of her pent up rage into one final shove.

Sirius felt the absence of solid ground to fall on and felt the open space swallow him up. He fell, tumbled down the steep wooden stairs. The stairs rushed to greet him as he dropped; his knee cracked, his arm snapped, his head collided with the stone floor of the cellar. His breath came out ragged and wheezy, the pain consumed him.

As he looked up towards the blurry light at the top of the stairs, he saw his Mother’s silhouette.

“Things will only get worse if you resist. You have no option; you will be pledged to the Dark Lord. I own you boy.” She regarded him for the final time. “You really are pathetic.”

He winced at that word, the word she so often resorted to. The word that had been ingrained in him for as long as he could remember. Pathetic. He felt her odious regard as he lay battered and defeated in the basement below her, curled up tightly in pain.

She shook her head in contempt one last time before slamming the door closed, locking it from the outside and leaving Sirius alone in the darkness.

Before he drifted away, he pictured his friends. He wondered what conclusion they would come to when he didn’t arrive at Platform 9 3/4 for the new school year. What would they think when the news finally emerged that the heir to the Black family had pledged his loyalty to The Dark Lord? Surely James would know how hard he’d fought. He realised that James would never forgive himself for letting Sirius go home that summer. He closed his eyes tightly, and tried to picture happier times. He failed.

“I’m sorry Prongs,” he sobbed into the darkness, before unconsciousness claimed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sirius has had a bad time of it! I'd really appreciate your feedback in the comments as this one was a hard one to write!
> 
> Thanks for reading :D


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW in this chapter for abuse, violence and general nastiness. Some pretty heavy angst so please proceed with caution. 
> 
> Sirius will get some comfort soon...hopefully.

_“Do it, Sirius,” the voice whispered in his ear, enticing him. The warmth of the breath in against his neck sparked shivers down his spine, but no one would notice given that his whole body was trembling._

_The woman cowered in front of him sat dressed in a business suit; black skirt, black jacket, black shoes. The red of her shirt contrasted ominously with the rest of her outfit, like a stark reminder of what he had to do. Her face was contorted, wet with tears. She didn’t understand any of this._

_He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the incessant hissing that consumed his mind and clouded his ability to think straight. His wand was clutched tightly in his hand, the Dark Lord’s breath still hot against his neck._

_“You know the spell,” he tormented, irritated, “So use it.”_

_His breath came in panicked rasps now, bead of sweat dripping into his eyes._

_‘No,’ his mind screamed at him._

_Sirius spun around, out of the grasp of Voldemort, throwing himself in front of the muggle woman, who let out a strangled yelp at the movement._

_“I won’t do it, I-I…” he looked around the room. His family stood next to Voldemort, disappointed. Even Reggie shook his head in distain._

_“Very well,” Voldemort called, turning away from Sirius, “Such a waste,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. He glanced in the direction of Sirius’ family and nodded. Orion drew his wand and pointed it at his first-born son._

_“Avada Kadavra.”_

………………………………………………………..

Sirius shot up, gasping for breath. He sucked in precious air while his heart threatened to pound out from his chest. His long hair was slick against his forehead, stuck down flat by the sweat pouring from him. He lay his head back down against the cold stone floor of the dilapidated cellar and stilled himself, trying to regain some of his composure. The images from his dream flitted behind his eyelids, the bright green flash from his Father’s wand flashed in the dark.

After a moment of recovery, Sirius forced himself to push aside his dream, and focus on the actual nightmare that he currently found himself in. He brought a hand to the floor, and with great difficulty, pushed himself up into a seated position.

As he glanced around the dark room, he saw a slither of light in the corner, and dragged his battered body towards it. After a painful few minutes of maneuvering himself as gently as possible to the corner of the chamber, he eventually made it and slumped back against the wall, breathless and suffering.

Sirius granted himself a second of respite, and lent his head back against the concrete wall, steadying himself. He knew that he was injured and that he would need to try and patch himself up as best he could if he had any chance of trying to get out of this place.

The slither of light from the small gap between the floorboards of the kitchen above gave Sirius the brightness that he needed to examine himself in the otherwise dark room.

The most pressing of his wounds was his knee. He had felt it crack as it collided with the stairs as his Mother had thrown him down here, and it erupted with pain every time he shifted it.

He braced himself, removed his leather belt and placed it between his teeth; he didn’t want to make noise and invite any unwelcome visitors just yet. When he was ready, he pulled his trouser leg up to inspect the injury. The waves of pain flooded his body as he squeezed the clothing over the knee, and he bit down hard on the belt. The ache sent shivers of nausea through his body and his eyes watered. ‘Don’t be sick, don’t be sick, don’t be sick.’

When he finally had his knee free of the material, he assessed it. The offended area was purple and blue and black, with a slice of red running through the middle. He cringed at the sight of it and knew this wouldn’t bode well in an escape attempt. Nonetheless, he ripped a piece of fabric from his shirt and tied it around, carefully yet tightly, gritting his teeth as he did so.

He looked at his work and tried to flex his leg a little. He stopped after a moment, the pain was still great, but with the support of his bindings it was a little better. He fussed for a while longer over his other injuries, but there wasn’t much he could do about them without his wand. He stopped suddenly though, when he felt his fingers brush wounds on his chest. He frowned, unable to remember what had happened there.

He unbuttoned his shirt a little in order to pull back the material. When he did, the confusion did not dissipate. If anything, it only increased. His fingers traced four new marks on his chest. They were raised, almost like cigarette burns, but they were shaped like a crescent moon. Like the letter ‘C’.

“Oh,” he muttered to himself. ‘C’ for crucio. Four marks, one for each time the spell was cast. Sirius felt his chest constrict and his heart weigh heavy in his chest as he rebuttoned his shirt up, not wanting to acknowledge those marks for another second. The lump in his throat threatened to overwhelm him as the memories of the pain resurfaced, but he pushed it away, with all of his might. He didn’t want to think about it right now, in this cold, unforgiving place.

His heavy head rested against the wall behind him, examining the room he lay trapped in. It wasn’t the first time that he had been confined to the cellar. Since Bellatrix had left him tied up in the cellar at seven years old, he had developed an unshakeable fear of the room. He refused to walk anywhere near it and would certainly never enter the room. Walburga had caught onto this one day, after she had told him to fetch her a bottle of wine from there. 

She watched as the panic and fear had consumed him; he didn’t dare say no to his Mother, but also knew he couldn’t venture into that room. She’d grabbed him by the back of his shirt and pulled him towards the room, kicking and screaming.

She dragged him through the kitchen of busy house elves, who stopped and gaped in awe at the cruelness of the woman. She pushed him into the room and slammed the door behind her. He hadn’t fallen that time, the nimble eight-year-old had managed to catch himself before tumbling down the stairs. He thumped his tiny fists on the door of the cellar, begging his Mother to let him out. He pleaded, he promised he that he’d do anything she asked of him. She called back to him,

“I will not have a weak son, debilitated by such pathetic fears.” He could swear that he’d heard a smile in her voice. She left him there, alone, to spend the night. For the first few hours Sirius kept banging the door, he kept pleading with his Mother. He called for the house elves to help him, but they too feared Walburga too much to help. He begged for his Father, for Regulus, for anyone to help him.

The next morning his Mother had opened the door and blinded him with the light of the kitchen. She looked at her son, curled up with bloody, splintered fists. He sprang up instantly and ran to her, clutching at her in a desperate hug.

“Thank you for letting me out Mother,” he croaked, his voice raw from screaming. She pushed him away from her and turned around wordlessly before leaving young Sirius alone once again.

The cellar had become a default punishment after that. After a beating or a row or even a refusal from Sirius, he’d be locked down there for the night, sometimes more. Sometimes when the door opened it would not be for release, but rather for a house elf to place a plate of food there for Sirius so that he wouldn’t starve, only to lock the door once more. He hated it but had grown accustomed to it after all these years. 

As he sat battered and broken in the room now, he realised how much he had normalised his life. Yes, he knew his parents were cruel and he knew that their treatment of him was not what most parents did, but he had never expected them to go this far, to use an unforgivable curse on him. He felt angry, enraged. How could he be so stupid! He should have seen this coming; he should have gotten out while he still could. He was in this position because of himself. His mother was right; he was pathetic.

He tried to shake away the shame and settled on distracting himself. He twisted his body up a few inches from the ground and pulled out one of the letters that had remained in his back pocket. The one that he had grabbed had James’ untidy scrawl all over it. He ripped at the envelope and the crumpled paper fell out into his lap. Sirius held it up to the ray of light and read:

_Sirius!_

_I hope you’re doing good buddy! I know things have been difficult over the past few weeks but I’m happy we got to chat on the train. We’re best mates, and I don’t want you to worry about that, okay? We always will be. Yes, you can be a stupid git sometimes, but so can I, so don’t beat yourself up too much. Mum and Dad have been asking about you, they said you’re welcome to come and stay, as always. We’re heading to India to visit some family next week though and we’ll be away for about three weeks, but you can come for the last couple of weeks of the holidays? I miss ya buddy, it’s not the same without you. Yeah, yeah, I’m a soppy idiot, I know!_

_Write back to me,_

_James._

Before he could read any of the others, the cellar door flew open and he shoved the letter back into his pocket hastily. The shock of light that streamed in made Sirius hiss. He squinted through the glare to see who stood before him. His parents descended the stairs, with Regulus sandwiched in the middle. Sirius felt his stomach turn; his parents knew that he had always tried to protect his little brother. They often used Regulus as a pawn to force Sirius to submit. They’d done this less in recent years, but the menacing smile on his Mother’s face set his teeth on edge.

Reggie looked at Sirius, mouth agape and eyes wide in disbelief. Sirius realised that he must be a sight for sore eyes; busted knee, battered face, lying limply in the corner of the room.

Regulus couldn’t look for long, but Sirius offered him a small smile before he averted his gaze, too mortified to keep looking at the state that his brother was in. Sirius understood.

A shiver ran through his body as his family reached the bottom of the staircase. He braced himself; for what, he wasn’t sure. He raised his chin, trying to summon some kind of intimidation or muster an ounce of bravery. His Mother seemed to like it; something twinkled in her eyes. She muttered an incantation under her breath and before Sirius could move, chains found his wrists and ankles, dragging him upright. His body screamed in protest, his wrapped knee jarring painfully. They looped around him, connected to the wall high above.

The bindings manipulated him so that his face was pressed hard against the cold, damp walls of the cellar, his arms fastened tightly above him, and ankles chained firmly to the ground. His back faced out to the audience in the cellar and he felt susceptible and afraid, knowing what was sure to follow. He pulled weakly against the enchanted ties, to no avail.

Sirius felt someone approach from behind. He felt trapped, like a caged animal. He had no way to defend or protect himself when he was bound like this. He whipped his head frantically from side to side, trying to examine the proceedings behind him. The small, shaking figure of Regulus was in his line of sight when he turned to the right, stood paralysed at the foot of the stairs. Sirius breathed a sigh of relief that he could see him. Even know, in such a state of vulnerability, he concerned himself with his brother’s wellbeing.

Suddenly, he felt fingers twist their way into his hair and snatch back violently. Sirius arched his back to follow the pull, trying to relieve the pressure on his hair. The motion made tears swell in his eyes, his hands held firmly above him as the chains held fast.

“This hair,” his Mother spoke slowly, calmly, like she was mulling over the words in her mouth. “It never sat well with me. Doesn’t scream ‘pureblood’ does it.” She pulled harder, and Sirius’ neck and back twisted sharply as she jerked his head around. His stomach was summersaulting; he knew what she was going to do. It wasn’t enough just to torture him, she had to humiliate him too.

‘She’s just getting a little carried away!’ He held on desperately to this thought and opened his mouth to try and reason with her.

“Mother ple-“

“Diffindo,” he felt the fingers that were entwined with his hair release, the pressure disappearing, shortly followed by the tickle of stray hair slipping down the collar of his shirt. He closed his eyes and resigned himself to his fate. The charm was uttered a dozen more times, each time spoken with more spite and malice. He felt the deliberate cutting of skin, his scalp and ears being sliced by the cutting charm. Sirius looked down and felt a surge of emotion as he stared at the black locks that littered the floor surrounding his feet. 

His hair had been his safety blanket. It was the one thing that he controlled, not his parents. He knew it irritated them, which was why he loved it all the more. 

The dribbles of blood snaked down his neck and shoulders, but he was more concerned about the hair. He knew she’d have made it as unsightly and unkempt as possible, just to spite him further.

She blew out a snort from her nose, happy with her work, and stepped back into Sirius’ peripheral vision. Regulus looked paler now, Sirius noticed, and his arms had worked their way around his body, wrapping himself up in a hug. It made Sirius’ heart ache. The anger of seeing his brother like this erupted from him. It struck him hard and fast, and suddenly he couldn’t contain it any longer.

“I won’t change my mind,” he spat, mustering every iota of contempt that he could. “I will never serve Voldemort, I will never serve you.” His parents stopped and looked at him with a cold calmness.

“Yes, we know,” Orion spoke, stepping forward. “Even if you agreed at this point, you would be unable to convince us of your loyalty.” He moved towards Sirius’ side, so he could look at him as he spoke. Orion’s icy grey eyes settled on Sirius’. He hoped that he was portraying fierceness or intensity through them. In reality, they looked beaten and tired, wide with fear and watery with pain.

“You’ll be meeting the Dark Lord as planned, and you’ll be under the spell of the Imperius curse. You will bring our family honour, whether you intend to or not.” Sirius felt the fight leave him body; he’d been afraid of this. He shook his head, his mouth opened to protest but nothing came out. What would he say? Nothing would change his fate now.

“And speaking of honour,” Orion turned away from the panicking Sirius and turned around. He faced Regulus now. Sirius forgot his panic for his own fate as fear engulfed him once more. Reggie shifted nervously on his feet, looking desperately between Sirius and Orion.

“You have your chance today, Regulus,” he said coolly. “Draw your wand.” Regulus hesitated but followed the order. Sirius’ head was twisted as dramatically as possible, and he felt the cold metal of the chains bite into the skin of his wrists and ankles as he pulled against them in desperation. He unvoluntary whimpers that he let slip from his mouth and the clinking of the chains reverberated around the room and it made him feel sick.

“You saw your Mother use the diffindo charm a moment ago, yes?” Reggie’s head nodded fervently. “Have you practiced it in school?” he questioned. Again, Regulus’ head bobbed up and down.

Orion nodded his head once in return, seemingly happy with the response.

“Good. Use it on your brother.” The silence in the room was deafening. Sirius’ struggling stilled and so did his heart. They couldn’t be serious, could they? He met his brother’s eyes; they were wide with terror, overflowing with disbelief. Orion allowed Regulus to pause, to have a second to comprehend the task at hand. He turned away from him and back to Sirius, stripping him of his shirt. The cold air of the cellar met his bare skin and raised goosebumps on his body. It wasn’t due to the weather, he was sure, but rather due to the atmosphere, so condensed with dark magic.

Orion turned back to Regulus now, expectant. But he took a step backwards, potentially the most defiant thing he had ever done. Their Father’s face hardened and strode menacingly towards him. The sharp sound of a slap filled Sirius’ ears and Reggie’s hands flew to his face to cup his red cheek. Orion reached out again, taking hold of Regulus’ shirt now, dragging him out of Sirius’ view to stand directly behind him.

“What are you doing?!” Sirius screamed. “We-we’re y-your ki-kids!” His body was wracking with hardly suppressed sobs now, but he didn’t know when that had begun. His composure was gone, his will to stay strong had vanished, the desperation had taken over. This would destroy Reggie; it would turn him.

“P-Please you…you c-can do i-it b-but don’t make him pl-please Father!”

“Regulus,” the calm voice of their Mother spoke now. “Show us that you are loyal to us. To this family…” she trailed off, quietly. Sirius forced himself quiet, the sobs that shook his body now simmering down to hear her verdict. 

“If you don’t…” she continued, “You’ll join your brother.”

The room was silent, and Sirius felt like the world had stopped spinning. They all stood there for a moment, before Regulus shuffled again.

“I-I…I do-“ he stuttered.

Sirius knew what he had to do, and he hated it. 

“Do it, Reggie,” Sirius whispered. The shuffling stopped. The silence was deafening.

“Sirius I-”

“DO IT! DO IT REGGIE!” he bellowed, the sound booming through the still room.

“I-“

“What, you’re too much of a coward now without your Slytherin pals around to rile you up, huh?” He sneered, trying to make his voice as vicious as possible. 

“Need Snape to hold your hand for a simple diffindo charm?” He laughed a stale, stiff laugh, and it almost got caught in his throat. It was killing him, it was breaking his heart, but it was the only thing he could do. If Reggie refused…it wasn’t even worth thinking about. He had to get his little brother to do it, else he’d have to endure what Sirius had tried to protect him from since they were children.

“Please Sirius st-“ he cried, his voice broken and weak.

“JUST BLOODY DO IT REGGIE-“

The pain slashed through his back and sent a wave of relief through his body. A hiss escaped from his lips and his body arched away from the pain, but the pain served as reassurance. Reggie was safe.

“Again,” he heard Walburga mutter.

“Diffindo,” Reggie whispered.

It went on until Sirius hung limp in the chains, his head bowed low and shoulders shaking with the effort of holding in his cries. He couldn’t let his brother hear him sob; Reggie would never forgive himself.

It went on until the charms fell from Reggie’s mouth in screams, a small part of his soul being destroyed each time he spoke the word. He couldn’t let his brother hear his voice crack; Sirius would never forgive himself.

Their parents had finally done it; they’d destroyed both of their boys.

“Well done, Regulus,” Orion praised. They filed out of the room without another word.

Sirius was left alone, the chains released him into a crumpled heap on the ground. He breathed methodically and tried to calm himself. The slither of light fell onto his face, taunting him of the freedom that lay ten feet above him. The comfort of sleep took him.

………………………………………..

_The atmosphere of the dorm room was heavy with despair, the usual buzz and excitement that followed the return to school absent this time._

_“It’s my fault, I pushed him away,” James all but wailed. “I told him we needed a ‘break’ from our friendship – who does that?!” His head was buried in his hands, his mess of hair poking up through his fingers._

_Remus sat down next to him, placing a comforting hand on his back, causing James to look up at him with shining eyes._

_“Don’t be too hard on yourself Prongs, we saw that he was changing. The Sirius we knew would never have pulled that stunt with Snape. He must have been getting ready.”_

_James tightened his lips and nodded his head slightly in agreement, but his face still looked torn. Remus looked disappointed too, but the kind of disappointed you feel when they run out of butterbeer in The Three Broomsticks, not the kind of disappointed you feel when you find out that your best friend has pledged themselves to the Dark Arts._

_Peter looked over at the two, his mouth half stuffed with a chocolate frog. He hardly looked up from the card of Albus Dumbledore as he spoke._

_“Nah, you’re worrying over nothing James. He’s a Black, it was bound to happen sooner or later. The evil is genetic with that lot.”_

_James looked to Remus and Peter, each in turn. The furrow from his brow had disappeared now and he let a small smile replace his frown._

_“Yeah, you’re both right I suppose. Not worth the bother. Come on, let’s get ready for dinner, I’m bloody starving!”_

_The three laughed and Prongs slung his arms around each of the boys and they left the dorm room deep in contemplation about their next prank._

………………………………………..

“Master Sirius, Master Sirius!” The nervous, harsh whisper stirred Sirius from his dream – nightmare – and brought him back to the cold floor of the cellar. His body ached as he shifted and he tried to open his eyes, but they refused to cooperate. 

He felt a tiny hand wrap around his finger and shake. It felt weird and childlike, but he sensed the urgency in the movement.

“Master Sirius, c-can you hear me?” He tried again to open his eyes and this time they fluttered and cracked open. He saw the wide eyes of Wolbey the house elf gazing down at him, an inch from his face. He groaned as he moved a little and Wolbey did a little nervous dance, clearly unable to figure out what to do.

“Wo-Wolbey, wh-what are y-you doing? Th-they’ll k-kill you,” Sirius warned. Wolbey kept his gaze on Sirius and bit his lip nervously. Sirius shifted his eyes and saw that Wolbey had a Gryffindor quidditch t-shirt and a black hooded jumper in one hand, clutching them like they were a lifeline. He realised then what was happening. Before he could say anything, Wolbey spoke, more confident now.

“Wolbey is here to help Sirius Black,” he said with a sincere nod of his head, but he couldn’t fully hide the wobble in his voice. He placed the clothes on the floor and took hold of Sirius’ shoulder with his two hands and pushed him, to help him find a seating position. Honestly, his effort did very little given the size of him compared to Sirius, but the thought was there, and the action gave Sirius the motivation to move.

“Please, Master Sirius, put these on quickly,” Wolbey said quietly, looking back to the cellar door to check they remained alone. With great effort, Sirius pulled the t-shirt on, gritting his teeth as the material brushed the open wounds on his back. They blood had mostly dried now, leaving his skin feeling stiff and cracked.

Wolbey readied the hoodie by rolling the bottom up so Sirius would only need to scoot his head through the neck hole, and for some reason this display of genuine care and concern made Sirius want to cry. When he was dressed Wolbey spoke.

“Wolbey can apparate, sir. Where shall Wolbey take you?” Sirius thought of James’ house first, but then he remembered the letter. He would still be in India now. He longed to go to Remus, but he waivered. Remus had never invited any of the boys to his home and given the previous term’s…incident, he thought that wouldn’t be fair. Plus, there hadn’t been a letter in that pile from him. His breath hitched at the thought, but this wasn’t the time to panic. Peter was in France and Andromeda had just had a baby. There was nowhere to go.

Wolbey looked up at him waiting for an answer. Sirius thought of him too. The floor of the cellar was dusty, and if there were only tiny house elf footprints leading in and out of the cellar and no human sized ones, his parents would know how he’d escaped. ‘Damn it,’ he cursed internally. He knew what he needed to do; leave through the front door.

“Wolbey, we can’t apparate. My parents will know it was you, they’d kill you,” Sirius pulled himself to his feet carefully, balancing most of his weight on his uninjured leg. Wolbey rushed forward to help, holding onto Sirius to help with him with his steadiness.

“I’ll need to go through the front door, okay. Can you…” he didn’t want to put the house elf in danger, but he knew he had to escape. “Can you just make sure the coast is clear? You can run ahead and let me know if it’s safe to go, right?”

“Yes, Master Sirius, of course!” He nodded passionately and began to ascend the stairs before Sirius could respond. He shuffled his way across the floor making sure to cover Wolbey’s footprints in the dust as he did so. He got braver, placing more weight on the damaged leg and found it became accustomed to the weight quite quickly. It hurt, but he could use it.

Tentatively, Sirius climbed the stairs and waited in the doorway, peaking into the kitchen. It was nighttime, he noticed. Almost as quickly as he noticed the darkness outside of the windows, his stomach growled at him. How long had he been down there? He had been in and out of consciousness, but he reckoned a good day or two must have passed him by. He tried not to think about how hungry and parched he was right now; he needed to survive first.

His ears pricked up at the sound of scampering feet slapping against the hard wood floor, and Wolbey came back into view, whizzing around the door to the hallway.

“Come Master Sirius, quickly!” he urged, his little hand beckoning him. Sirius knew he’d have to be fast, so gritted his teeth as his weight bore down his injured knee. He hobbled as quickly as his could, passing through the relative safety of the kitchen and into the open hallway. The front door was in sight, right at the other end of the corridor.

Wolbey had scampered back to the staircase to look upwards, to make sure no one emerged from the upstairs rooms. Sirius gripped onto the walls for support as he made his way painstakingly down the passage, making sure to smear blood and dirt on the panels; it needed to be known that he had escaped, struggling but independently. He prayed that no one suspected Wolbey. 

He passed the drawing room, the dining room, the parlour room and finally made it to the door. He slid the locks aside, using all of his strength to shift the last one.

‘This is it,’ he thought sadly. He paused, turning back and looking at his home. It hadn’t been a happy home, nothing near it, but it had been where he had been raised, where his first memories were made. It brought him horror and pain, but he couldn’t help but wishing, once again, that it could have been different.

He turned now to the little house elf stood before him. The breath had been knocked out of him by looking at the earnest creature.

“Wolbey…” he started, tears threatening to drop once more. “Come with me?” he pleaded. He knew he sounded weak, like a child, but he couldn’t help it.

“Master Sirius, Wolbey can’t…Wolbey is bound to this house until Master Orion frees me,” he said sadly. But he looked up to Sirius, a smile brimming on his face.

“Wolbey can’t wait, Master Sirius, to see the look on Master Orion and Madam Walburga’s faces, when they see you have escaped,” he giggled. The change of tone and unexpected comment from the house elf stunned Sirius for a moment, before he too allowed a smile to grace his face.

“You’re…you’re the bravest creature I’ve ever met, Mr. Wolbey,” Sirius said, still smiling gently at the house elf. He bent down and shook his hand. Wolbey looked up in awe. 

“And you, Master Sirius, are the kindest human Wolbey has ever met. Withou-“ Wolbey was cut off by a sound from upstairs. Nothing really, a creak in the floorboards maybe, but it was enough to startle the two. Their eyes met once more before Wolbey took the door and pulled wide open to reveal the street beyond. Freedom.

“Go, Master Sirius. I hope we meet again.”

Sirius nodded and turned; all sentimentality gone now. He moved as quickly as his body allowed him, which was little more than a hurried walk. But he pushed through the pain, down the front steps and onto the street. 

He kept going for what felt like an age. He was deep in muggle London before he questioned how long he had been walking. Sirius genuinely didn’t know; an hour, maybe two?

The night was dark and thick, somewhere around three o’clock, he mused. He was thankful for the jumper that Wolbey had brought him as the chill in the air brushed passed his face. He was more thankful still that it had a hood, so that he could shield his injured face and unsightly hair from the passing eyes of drunk muggles that he encountered in the London night.

There were a few groups that he passed, arms slung around each other, hands being held. They were drunk, most of them, and the cheery buzz that they gave off made his insides ache and long for the company of his own friends.

After a while longer he had reached a quieter area of muggle London and saw a park. His exhausted and aching body cried out for respite, so he wandered in, looking for a place to rest. A small structure at the far end of the park caught his eye. A maintenance shed, he figured; it was nestled away against the wall to the park and had trees either side of it. He limped over and instinctively reached for his wand.

His spirits dropped when he thought about the loss of his wand, but his wearied mind didn’t have the capacity for any more sorrow right now. Instead of magically unlocking the door, Sirius settled for hiding behind it. He squeezed himself through the small gap between the wall of the park and the shed to find the small alcove hidden behind.

They floor of the space was full of leaves and beer cans, mud and cheap vodka bottles, but he didn’t care. He kicked the rubbish aside and gathered up a small pile of leaves. He lay his head down, desperate for rest, on the makeshift pillow and let his body relax. As he lay in the mud of a public park, battered, broken and alone, the adrenaline began to fade and his emotions began to resurface.

Under the clear night sky, the shining constellations and the menacing full moon, Sirius Black sobbed himself quietly to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading y'all, I hope you liked it! 
> 
> Please leave a comment about what you thought, I crave validation 😅


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! 
> 
> This chapter is a little lighter. There are some mentions of injuries but that's about it. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Squeals of children and echoes of laughter stirred Sirius from his sleep. His eyes cracked open, lids heavy and sluggish. He glances around, curiously, jolting upwards as he notices the unfamiliar surroundings. He was…outside? The movement of sitting up sparked pain throughout his body which served as an adequate reminder as to why he was outside, why he was sleeping rough in this unfamiliar place.

He’d run.

The words rattled around his brain as he tried to stay calm. He was out, he was safe, for now. The leaves beneath his frail body rustled as he maneuvered himself into a comfortable seated position, trying to avoid putting pressure on the damaged areas. Small pained grunts escaped through his lips, which he stifled quickly; he didn’t want anyone noticing him cowering behind a shed in a public park. Once he’d finally settled, he assessed his injuries.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Sirius whispered to himself, more as a reassurance to himself that an actual fact. He rebandaged his knee which helped subdue the ache; the swelling had grown but the pressure of the make-shift bandage had taken away some of the discomfort. His back was torn and bloodied due to the diffindo charm, but all the wounds were healing and were no longer bleeding. He didn’t think that they were deep, but they would likely leave scars. He sighed, knowing that he had always told Remus that his scars were ‘badass’. There was nothing ‘badass’ about his scars though.

Sirius poked and prodded every part of his injured self, as if to try and avoid evaluating the one thing that bothered him the most: his hair. He knew this was stupid, when he was covered in abrasions and bruises, but the physical pain he could handle. The loss of his hair though was a loss of his identity, he felt naked without it. 

He knew that his mother would have ruined it deliberately, but he hoped that it wouldn’t be as bad as he was making out in his head. He took a deep breath and raised his fingers to his head.

He ran both hands across his scalp tentatively, delicately, as if not to cause any further damage. His hair had always served as a safety blanket for him. He could hide behind it, use it as a shield. Now there was nothing left. His fingertips traced the short spikes of hair, so short that what was left behind felt like velvet. He could feel the lines of cuts, crisscrossing over his head leaving scabs and scars in their wake. The very tip of his left ear had been sliced off in the attack. He felt like an old, abandoned alley cat who had been in too many fights. Rather than dwelling on it any further, he pulled his hood up over his head and stifled the hot tears that bubbled behind his eyes and the cries that lodged themselves in his throat. He crossed his arms like a child and held himself in a tight ball, trying not to let the emotion seep out.

He needed a distraction, he thought. An idea popped into his head - the letters! He prayed that they were still in his pocket as he swung an arm around to his back pocket. He had walked for what felt like hours last night, the letters could have fallen out then, or any time during the…the commotion in the cellar. His fingers brushed the paper though, and Sirius let out a sigh of relief as he ripped the correspondences from his pocket.

He held the things like they were made of gold. He grasped them tightly in two hands, like the wind was going to blow them away. He took the letter on top of the pile and tucked the others safely beneath his hoodie while he tore open the envelope.

He knew this one was from Peter. He had a habit of smudging the lettering because he was left-handed. The ink was never dried before he moved on and resulted in pages of almost unreadable writing. McGonagall had taught him a spell that helped the ink dry quicker, but normally Pete didn’t care enough to enchant the ink before using it. Sirius smiled fondly at the memory and started reading the letter.

_Hey Sirius,_

_Hope you’re good! I’m going to the Pettigrew family estate in Bordeaux this summer, I can’t wait! I’ll have to tell you all about it when we’re back at school. I guess we’re all mates again now, right? I hate arguments, I can’t cope with the stress! I hope your summer isn’t too bad!_

_See you in September!_

_Pete._

Sirius rolled his eyes at the letter, ‘typical Pete’, he thought. He thumbed through the other letters that he had, mostly from James. He was rabbiting on about anything and everything. ‘He was trying to distract me,’ Sirius realised, as he brushed his thumb against the paper fondly. His best friend really did care about him so much. Sirius chewed his lip as he wondered how long it would be until James would be back from India. He said he’d be there for three weeks, and Sirius figured that it was around two weeks through the summer holidays at this point, maybe two and a half. He sighed, letting his shoulders fall.

Where would he go until then?

His attention fell then to the final letter. He had thought it had come from Lily, but he couldn’t be certain. He toyed with the idea of pushing it back in his pocket, his head spinning with possibilities of what the contents could be. Surely the letter would be her condoning him, Snape would unquestionably have told her of his actions.

He ripped into it though, quickly, before he changed his mind.

_Hello Sirius,_

_I hope you don’t mind me writing to you. It seems strange for me to be doing so, but I just wanted to check in on you. I don’t know much about your family, to be honest I don’t know that much about you. But from what I’ve gathered, you’re not quite like your family. You feel…different from them, right? Well, I just wanted to let you know that I know the feeling. My parents are wonderful, they love me and support me being a witch even though they are muggles, and they don’t understand it. However, my sister, she is cruel. She hates what I am and reminds me of it at any given opportunity. I feel my heart sink when school holidays draw neared, because I don’t want to face the hatred, I want to remain in a place where I am free to be myself, unapologetically._

_This might be me just writing absolute waffle, and you might be rolling your eyes as you read it thinking ‘this girl had no clue’. In reality, you’re right. I don’t have a clue about what you have to go through at home. But I just wanted you to know, that if ever you need to talk to someone, I can be that person. Your best friends are…well they’re quite special, aren’t they? Sometimes it’s harder to talk to the people who we are closest to though. So, if ever you need to vent, an ear to talk to or a shoulder to cry on, this is where I will be:_

_1 Victoria Road,_

_Redhill,_

_London._

_Or, if you’ve been paying any attention in your ‘Muggle Studies’ class, you can reach me at this number – 885529._

_Yours,_

_Lily Evans._

He sat in a stunned silence for a moment and read the letter again, to make sure that he had not imagined it all. He folded the letter back up and placed it safely in his back pocket. He swiped his thumb across his cheek, wiping away the solitary tear that had escaped.

“I understand you now, James. She’s quite the woman,” he whispered.

No sooner had he spoken did his stomach growl like a dragon. He looped his arms around his stomach in an attempt to quieten the audible hunger. At once he realised quite how famished and parched he was. His licked his chapped lips to try and moisten them, but this did nothing to quell his thirst. He looked around and noticed the light blue sky slipping into a deeper blue now, indicating that it was evening time. He’d slept for hours, but he’d needed it. It must have been days now that he’d gone without food and water, and he needed something to keep his going.

He had no money with hm, neither muggle nor magical. He sighed, exasperated already, considering his options. He’d have to steal something or beg someone for some spare change. The idea of both made his stomach churn, but he didn’t really have a choice. He hoped that he was near to some shops; he knew he wouldn’t be able to go far with such little energy left in him. He had to try.

………………………………….

Mothers pulled their children closer as he walked by them, hood up, eyes down. He tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible, but the bruises on his face and the limp as he walked gave him away.

Sirius tried to make himself as small as possible, his hands tucked neatly into his pockets, his shoulders slumped forwards, closing him off to others. As the night drew nearer, the light jumper again proved to be too little clothing to keep him warm.

As he left the park, away from the hushed whispers of worried mothers discussing the ‘sightly boy’, Sirius was relieved to see a row of houses with a small shop at the end. The street was bustling, even at this time of night, so Sirius allowed himself to hope for the kindness of a stranger.

He crossed the street wearily, heading in the direction of the news agents. All he needed was some water and a sandwich. He twisted his hands together nervously, working up the nerve to approach someone for help. He considered how he looked.

‘Maybe it’ll work if people feel sorry for me,’ he though. Tentatively, he lowered his hood, displaying his discolored face and the cuts on his head. His hand went instinctively to his hair, to fluff it up a little, but he lowered it back down as his heart tugged at his chest.

Sirius found himself a seat on a high wall to observe the people entered and exiting the shop. He watched as elderly women avoided his gaze, he squirmed as older men looked him up and down, he smiled as children gave him a small wave before parents dragged them away. After a while of people watching, he spotted a man. Nothing special. He was middle aged, carrying a briefcase, and wearing a suit. His tie had been loosened a little and his cheeks were a soft pink colour.

He entered the shop in a hurry while shoving a fist into his pocket, change rattling around loudly; clearly, he had a few coins to spare. Sirius felt sick to his stomach, nerves fluttered around like birds. He stood up, ready for the man to return back to the pavement.

After a minute or two, he did, clutching a small bottle of milk and pushing a packet of cigarettes into his inside jacket pocket.

“Excuse me, sir,” Sirius said. The calmness of his own voice shocked him, and evidently the man didn’t expect such eloquence from a beaten-up youth hanging around the corner shop. He forced a small smile at the man and continued, jogging along the side of the man after he refused to stop.

“I-I was wondering if you could spare me a few coins? I-I haven’t eaten for a few days and I would really appreci-“

“Bother someone else mate, yeah? Haven’t got anything for you,” the man replied curtly before turning sharply into Sirius’ path, causing him to stumble slightly, before crossing the road away from him. He sighed out a shaky breath, but his nerves had dissipated slightly now that he had done it once.

He asked two, three, four other people, and still no luck. He had to take his seat back on the wall to recover, he had to catch his breath. He let his head rest in his hands for a few minutes, his energy was draining fast.

“You look rough, boy.”

Sirius leapt from his seat on the wall, stumbling backwards in fright. His heart hammered in his chest and his eyes were wide, assessing the danger. He was met only with a gentle giggling and a kind, weathered face.

“It’s alright lad, I won’t hurt you. I can see you’ve had enough of that already.”

Sirius looked at the woman before him. She stood hunched over, dragging a small trolley behind her, presumably for her visit to the shop. She was plump, the kind of plump old ladies get when they snack on tea and biscuits all day. She wore a long, dark sage skirt with hideous red flower patterns on, with a short-sleeved white blouse tucked into it. Sirius didn’t notice anything ostentatious about her; the thin watch she wore on her wrist and the broach attached to her blouse looked humble enough.

He studied her face though. She smiled at him with her eyes, as well as her mouth. A genuine, warm smile. Her eyes were ocean blue, crinkled at the sides. Crow’s feet, Sirius had remembered Remus called them. He said they indicated that someone had smiled a lot in their life. She had peachy pink cheeks; dimples clear in both. Her white hair was combed back into a tidy do, cutting off just at the base of her neck in curls that flicked up. 

Sirius shook himself, reminding himself suddenly of his manners. He composed himself, closing his mouth that remained open from the shock, and pulled his hands in front of him politely.

“Excuse me, mam. I didn’t mean to be ill-mannered. I…I was in a world of my own,” he said with a small smile and dipped his head courteously.

“Oh,” she replied, her smile broadened. “You do speak well, lad!”

“Thank you, mam.” The woman looked him up and down for a moment, before speaking again.

“What are you doing sat out here, ay? Are you in some kind of trouble?” She stayed rooted in her place, her trolley stood next to her now, like she intended to converse with Sirius. A small wrinkle had appeared in between her brows, like she was serious now. The look of concern in this woman’s face startled Sirius, why should she care? She didn’t know him.

“I don’t think so mam, I-“

“Mabel,” she said.

“I- pardon?”

“Mam is much too formal for an old gal like me. Call me Mabel, please,”

“Oh, right, yes. Mabel. Uhh…I-I don’t think I’m in trouble anymore, I’m just hungry and need a drink. I haven’t had anything for a couple of days and I have no money but I’ve had no lu-“

“Come on then, follow me lad,” Mabel said, grabbing her trolley once more, making off towards the shop. Before Sirius could move from the spot he was frozen to she paused again, looking up at him.

“What is your name, love?” 

“Oh, um, I’m Sirius,”

“About what?” she asked, confused.

“No, uh, that’s my name. Sirius, not serious. Like the star,” he said, hiding away a smile. Her smile widened once more, and she chuckled as she passed by him.

“Come on then Sirius, let’s get you something to eat shall we.” She shuffled passed him into the small shop, heaving her trolley behind her. He followed her like a lost puppy as she picked up items from the shelf and dropped them in. Bags of flour, bags of sugar, packets of teabags, all the items you would expect.

He had never been into a muggle shop before. He didn’t know what he had expected, but he was transfixed. There was a whole wall full of cigarettes, he never knew there were so many types! He only ever had the ones Moony brought to Hogwarts with him. There were rows of chocolate, tins of food he had never heard of like Marmite and mushy peas.

After following Mabel around the isles for a while and listening to her talk about her famous Victoria sponge recipe, they finally reached a section that had pre-made food to-go. There were a selection of sandwiches and pasties, along with bottles of water. The counter was right next to this section and the store clerk looked at the two with concern. Sirius had to admit, they were an odd pair.

He looked at the food hungrily. There were only two sandwiches left, neither of which looked very fresh considering it was near to the end of the day. The ham was dried at the edges and the lettuce hung out of the sides limp and browning. Mabel made a groaning sound and looked up at him. She was considerably shorter than him, he realised now as he towered over her.

“Well, this just won’t do will it Silus,” Mabel tutted.

“Um, it’s Sirius, mam,” he politely corrected, “But honestly, I’d be happy with whatever, I’m very grateful for you offering to help.”

She shushed him and gave him a wave of her hand.

“Nonsense,” she said, “Could you grab me a loaf of bread from the back please, Si-Sirius- “ Sirius nodded and she continued – “and I’ll make you some food at my place. It is only around the corner.”

He stared at her for a moment, shocked, but then nodded at Mabel and darted over to collect the bread; his hunger was growing by the second. As he returned to the till, the cashier looked him up and down and back to Mabel. As Sirius placed the bread on the counter, following Mabel’s lead as she unloaded her trolley, the balding man spoke, pretending as if Sirius did not exist.

“You shouldn’t take the like of him back to your house, doll. You don’t know what he’s after. He’ll probably rob you blind.” Sirius held his tongue; he realised how it must have looked. Mabel, however, didn’t blink as she continued to sort through her shopping.

“I didn’t recall asking for your opinion on the matter,” she said sharply, placing the last item in front of the man for her bill to be calculated. “And that’s mam, to you, not doll. Have some manners.” Sirius had to stifle a laugh at that one. The clerk huffed as he totaled the bill and Sirius helped Mabel repack her shopping into her trolley and offered to wheel it back for her.

“I’m alright thanks love, it keeps me fit this.”

Mabel led the way across the street and stopped just a few hundred meters away from the shop. There before them was a small red brick house, in a terrace row, with a tiny patch of grass just outside. A small wall stood around the grass and a wrought iron gate was unlatched as Mabel pushed through towards the deep green door. Sirius could see through the bay window into a cozy front room, lamp on illuminating two armchairs before a tiny tv and a coffee table covered in stacks of books.

He turned his attention back to Mabel, who stood now with her back to the front door, facing Sirius. He was taken aback by the fierceness in her expression. Lines appeared on her forehead; her hand was drawn up to Sirius’ chest. An old, arthritic finger was pointing at him, warning him.

“Listen boy, I don’t take in waifs and strays every day of the week, you know,” her voice was stern. Sirius nodded. “I’m trusting you to be respectful of me and my home, do you hear me?” Again, Sirius nodded his head, vehemently. 

“Y-Yes mam,” he stuttered. As if by magic, the crease in her brow vanished, and the softness of her face returned, her hand now cupping Sirius’ face. “I trust you, son.”

She pushed her key into the lock and swung the door open. She heaved the trolley through the door and beckoned Sirius in. He shut the door behind him, suddenly awkward now in a stranger’s home. She busied herself searching through her trolley, pulling out the bread and shuffling through the hall into the kitchen at the back of the house.

The house was tiny compared to Grimmauld Place, but infinitely better. The place felt warm, just like Mabel. Sirius could her dulcet tones of 50s music coming from somewhere in the house and the walls were lined with photos of what looked like Mabel and her family. The photos remained unmoving, but the love was clear to see. Sirius jumped as a grey cat appeared at his feet, twirling around his legs, meowing at him.

“That’s Tommy, don’t mind him,” Mabel hollered from the kitchen. Sirius moved away from the cat and kicked his shoes off, placing them neatly at the side of the hallway, before walking slowly down to the kitchen. He stood in the doorway watching as Mabel piled fillings into two sandwiches. A kettle was boiling on the stove and the teacups were already on saucers.

“May I help at all Mabel?” Sirius offered. Mabel turned to him, wiping crumbs off her fingers with the dish cloth.

“Yes,” she said, turning back around to the counter and grabbed a large glass of water, “You can sit yourself down by here, lovely, and drink up, you look like you need it.” She hobbled over to the small kitchen table and placed the glass down, gesturing for Sirius to sit down.

Sirius swore that he had never tasted anything so good in all of his life. The water brought life back to him. His head felt clearer, his breathing felt easier. He drank the whole thing in one go and gasped loudly when he had finished, drawing a chuckle from Mabel, who had just finished the sandwiches.

“Here love,” she placed the sandwiched in front of him and took his glass, “Let me get you some more.” Sirius looked at his plate to see the two sandwiches piled on, along with all sorts of other snacks. Crisps, biscuits, fruit; everything he could want was right there.

“Don’t you want one of these sandwiches Mabel,” he asked, feeling guilty that she had nothing.

“Oh no dear, I’m alright for now.” She pulled out the seat opposite Sirius and sat down. A fresh glass of water was before him now, along with a teapot and two cups. She poured them both some tea, added milk and sugar to hers, and then sat back, assessing Sirius as he scoffed down his second ham sandwich. She sipped at her tea and said nothing until he had finished his food.

“Thank you, Mabel,” he said, almost out of breath from eating so quickly. She smiled up at him, but this time a hint of sadness appeared in her eyes. He noticed it and averted his eyes, focusing on the tea instead. He hated to think about how much of a mess he must look like.

Sirius didn’t expect to start crying, but it all happened so quickly. Emotions and memories and thoughts flooded his brain all at once and he just…broke down. He thought of how badly his life had gone, how he was sitting in an old woman’s kitchen, eating her food to survive. He thought of the way Mabel had cupped his face outside, versus the way his mother grabbed at his face in the cellar. He thought of his battered body, of his brother left at home, of Wolbey in danger. He thought of Remus, who hadn’t written to him.

Before he had realised what had happened, he felt Mabel’s soothing hands rubbing soft circles on his back, comforting words falling from her mouth.

“You’re safe here, you’re safe here.” She hushed, and she rocked him as he cried. Her kindness only made him sob more, it made him sob for what he had never had, and what he had always wished he could have had.

Minutes passed, and slowly his sobbing slowed into pitiful hiccups. Mabel pulled her chair to his side and sat back as in her seat as he wiped at the tears from his face. She offered him her handkerchief, which he thankfully accepted.

“I-I’m s-sorry Mabel. Maybe-maybe I should go,” he put his hands flat on the table and pushed himself up before she interrupted.

“You will do no such thing,” she instructed, firmly, yet kindly. It reminded Sirius of Professor McGonagall. “You’ll be staying here until you figure out your next move, do you understand me Sirius?” She held his hand tightly in her own as she said this, looking him dead in the eye. There wasn’t a hint of burden or discomfort in her voice, only genuine concern.

“I couldn’t-“

“You can and you will love,” she said quickly with a smile. She took a deep breath and spoke to him again.

“I found myself in a rough spot once. Lots of people, people that I trusted, turned their backs on me. One person stood by me though, and that was all I needed. So, this must be my turn to repay that favour. You don’t need to tell me what happened, not right now, but we will figure this out, my boy, okay?” She still held onto his hand and rubbed her thumb over his palm, as if to sooth him. He was stunned by her statement, but managed to nod slightly in her direction. 

“Come on, you can have the guest room. It’s made up all girly and pink for my granddaughters, but it’ll do the job. You can get yourself cleaned up in the bath first, I’ll bring the towels and I’ll have a look around for some spare clothes.” She stood up, a little wobbly at first and then made her way down the hall towards the stairs.

“Well, are you coming?” she laughed as she poked her head back around the banister to see Sirius gawking at her from the kitchen table.

“Y-Yeah…yes I-“ he jumped up at once, scurrying down the hall to see her ascending the stairs at a surprisingly hasty pace.

………………………………………..

Mabel had shown Sirius to his room, and she was right – it was very pink. Two twin beds lay in the room, one on each side. She then showed him to the bathroom, and she told him to run himself a hot bath before busying herself with something once more. Sirius looked at the bath, trying to remember what he had learnt in muggle studies. He knew that most muggles put some bubbles in their water, but he couldn’t remember how for the life of him. There was also something about a rubber duck which he couldn’t quite place too, but Mabel didn’t seem to have one of them. He sighed, exasperated, as he turned on the hot tap. He knew that much at least. ‘Everything is so much easier with magic,’ he thought.

“Here love, these probably won’t be your style, but they’ll be good enough for the time being.” Mabel set down a small pile of men’s clothes on the closed seat of the toilet. There was a pair of striped pajama shorts and a plain grey t-shirt with some bright red knitted socks - ‘Gryffindor colours,’ Sirius mused. 

“Now get in there and warm yourself up. You’ll be needing a good night’s sleep after, but pop down and see me before you go to bed, okay love?”

“Yes, Mabel, and…” his words hitched in his throat for a moment as he looked between the kind woman and the pile of clothes and the steaming water filling the bath. His emotions threatened to overcome him again, but he swallowed them down, forcing a grateful smile to cover his face instead.

“And thank you. I’m not sure how I’ll ever be able to repay your kindness,” he said. As he got the words out, he was struck by the kindness in Mabel’s eyes once more. Never had anyone looked at him this way before, apart from maybe Professor McGonagall. Mabel blinked a smile his way before turning and leaving the bathroom, latching the door closed as she left.

Sirius lowered his battered body down into the bath, hissing as his injuries came into contact with the hot water. The wound on his knee throbbed as the searing water lapped over it, but the main source of his pain was his back now. Littered with cuts, the water stung each one like acid as he forced himself down lower into the water. He knew the wounds needed to be cleaned, but he hadn’t anticipated this level of pain. He bit his tongue and slowly released pressure as he felt his body became accustomed to the water. He closed his eyes and let himself relax in the warmth of the bath, he let his abused body be comforted by the heat that now surrounded it.

He laid there for a long time before opening his eyes again, the tiredness taking over now that he felt cleaner and had a full stomach. He was sitting up, reaching for the soap to wash himself, when he noticed it. The colour of the bath startled him, and his body leapt involuntarily at the sight. He cursed as water sloshed over the side of the bath at his sudden movement. But he couldn’t help it. The water was red, deep, blood red. He shook his head, cursing himself at his stupidity.

‘Of course it’s red you idiot, you’ve been covered in blood for days,’ he chastised himself. He quickly washed himself, eager now to get out of the water, and splashed soapy water over his head and hair, resulting in the darkening of the red. He tried to pay it no mind and pulled the plug from the tub as quickly as he could and washed his body off with fresh water from the shower head before drying himself off. He didn’t want to get blood on Mabel’s nice towels.

He leant over to pick up the clothes she had laid out for him and held the t-shirt in his hands. ‘Whose was it,’ he wondered, before pulling it over his head and over the cuts on his back. As he tidied up after himself, he noticed a small, mirrored cabinet fastened to the wall. The mirrors were steamed up from the heat of the bath water, so Sirius wiped them clean again.

The sight of his own face sent shock waves through his body and tore a yell from his throat. The boy in the mirror was gaunt, shadows hung under his eyes and beneath his cheek bones. Bruises littered his face and a deep cut tore across the bridge of his nose. The hair was a mess, cut short and callously, some parts longer than others.

Sirius forced himself to look, to address what his parents had done to him. He couldn’t stand the sight of himself and stormed out of the bathroom in a rage. What had possessed Mabel to take him in when he looked like this? He could understand the shop boy’s comments now; he looked like a criminal, a thug.

In the pink room, Sirius sat on the edge of a bed trying to calm his nerves. He looked around the room and tried to find something to distract himself. His eyes settled on a photograph that sat perched on the dresser between the headboards of the two beds. There were two girls in the picture, they couldn’t have been any older than four or five. They stood, arms linked around each other’s shoulders, smiling and happy. Sirius smiled as his held it in his hand; the happiness on their faces was contagious.

His mood began to calm, and his worries ebbed away as he was brought back to the present, as he realised someone cared enough to help him. He felt ridiculous in his pajama shorts and red socks, but Mabel had asked him to go and say goodnight before heading to bed, and he couldn’t deny her that after everything she had done for him. He felt exposed though, with his battered knee on display, but he pushed it aside as he began limping down the stairs.

As he reached the living room, he could see the gentle glow of light as the fire flickered in the room. He poked his head around the doorframe and saw Mabel, tucked up comfortably in one of the two armchairs; she looked tiny. She had a huge round pair of glasses (not unlike James’) perched on the end of her nose and a book open on her lap.

Sirius was afraid that he would scare her, so he cleared his throat gently and rapped quietly on the door to announce his presence. Mabel’s head shot up, a smile gracing her face instantly.

“Oh, Sirius, you look much better! Do you feel better now?” she asked as she pushed herself out of the armchair, occupying herself at the dresser on the far wall. Sirius couldn’t see what she was doing, but he could hear clinking glasses.

“Yes, much better. Thank you, Mabel. I though…I thought I would come and say goodnight,” he spoke softly, the tiredness getting the better of him. Mabel turned around finally as he finished and smiled again, a wicked glint in her eye this time.

“How old are you, love?”

“I-I’m sixteen,”

“Oh good, that’s old enough for a nightcap then,” she smiled cheekily, pouring two measures of amber liquid into two crystal glasses. She shuffled back over to her armchair and beckoned Sirius over with a nod of her head. He quickly obliged and took the glass she was offering.

“Have a seat for a minute, love,” she said as she groaned, sitting back into her armchair. Sirius mirrored her, settling down and taking a sip from his drink. He barely contained his surprise at the strength of the liquid and Mabel must have noticed.

“Ever had whiskey before?” she laughed. He almost said that he’d only tried fire whiskey but caught his tongue in time.

“No, but I like it,” he smiled back cheekily at her, earning a pleased giggle. Mabel’s laughs died on her lips as her eyes fell to his knee. The bruising and swelling had grown, the gash through the middle looked angry and raw. Mabel sighed, and placed her drink down on the table before her as she leaned in to get a better look.

“We’ll leave it tonight, let the air dry the wound a little, but I’ll dress it for you properly tomorrow, okay Sirius?” She settled back into her seat, sipping on some more whiskey. He was glad for her lack of probing questions; she didn’t dwell on the injury either. She’d moved the conversation on before Sirius could agree to her statement.

“I used to be a nurse, you know?” Mabel announced, clearly proud. Sirius shook his head, eyes wide. It was easy to forget sometimes that old people had lives, just like us, when they were young. Mabel smiled at his quizzical expression and continued.

“Yes, I saw some things my boy, I worked through both world wars. Mind, in the first one I was basically a child, 15 years old. I had a spring in my step then, lied about my age too. But I’ve had a good life, I’ve been lucky. I’m 79 now,” she sighed wistfully.

“Well, I don’t think you look a day over 25,” Sirius replied, earning a delighted squeal from Mabel.

“I knew I liked you,” she laughed. The two finished their whiskeys together in a comfortable silence, before Mabel told Sirius to get some rest. He nodded at her and stood, thanking her for the whiskey before leaving the room. He smiled all the way to his temporary room and lay his head back on the pillow. He heard a small bell tinkle, followed by a weight settling on his feet. He allowed himself to let out a small chuckle at Tommy, who had curled up and already settled into sleep on Sirius' feet. The smile remained on his face as he closed his eyes and tried to mimic the cat, willing his own body to grant him respite in sleep. He thought that maybe that was wrong to be smiling; after all, he had been through hell the past few days. But the kindness that he had experienced from Mabel had filled his heart with a happiness that he had not felt before. She felt nurturing, like she would help him find himself again. 

He relaxed, his mind shutting out the events of the recent week, but drifted off to sleep with the small smile still on his lips. He probably should have been terrified, haunted, traumatised. But he couldn’t shake his contentedness. Right now he felt safe, all thanks to his new friend, Mabel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading y'all! I hope you've enjoyed it - please let me know what you think of this chapter in the comments :D


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of comfort for our boy Sirius in this chapter. Honestly if I could reach through the screen and do it myself I would but HERE WE ARE. Sorry for the long time between updates - hopefully the next chapter will come a little quicker! 
> 
> TW for description of injury and mentions of child abuse.

The sounds of summer stirred Sirius from his slumber. Chatter drifted into his room from outside through the open window; cars passed by, women chattered idly on the warm day, teenagers guffawed obnoxiously, like they didn’t have a care in the world. For the most case they didn’t. The summer had been warm so far, hot and muggy, but today the wind had whipped up, bringing a welcome breeze to the streets, blowing away the damp heat.

Sirius left his head on the pillow and allowed his eyes to remain shut for the time being. He tried to stay in this moment of blissful half-consciousness for just a while longer, but the option to do so illuded him. He was awake, and back in his painful reality. His eyelids flickered open, long lashes blurring his sight for a few seconds before the world came into focus. The pink décor seemed brighter in the light of day, the absurdity of him sleeping in this room seemed all too obvious as well.

As he forced himself up, Sirius felt the exhaustion seeping out of him, like the act of sitting up used up all the energy he had accumulated from his sleep last night. Before he could pay much more attention to it, the sound of metal clinking on glass made its way upstairs, the sound triggering a memory.

_In Grimmauld Place, the house was bustling, busy in preparation for the party later that evening. Sirius knew to keep away from his Mother when parties were imminent; the stress radiated from her like heat from a fire. And where better to avoid her grasp than in the kitchens? The small Sirius sat on the counter, next to a house elf who was diligently stirring the mixture of icing sugar, which would adorn the top of the cake._

_At seven years old, nothing appealed more to the boy than dipping his finger into the mixture and reveling in the sweet bliss of the sugar. But he knew better than that; pureblood manners dictated his actions even now. He watched instead, observing how the skinny house elf churned and churned, spoon ringing out against the glass bowl when it nicked the sides. He spoke politely to the house elf about the party, and the house elf returned the conversation in kind. Enjoying each other’s company, the two chattered away for a long time, long enough for the icing to be completed._

_Sirius watched curiously as the house elf spun around, surveilling the corners of the room. When he turned back to Sirius, he had a glint in his eyes._

_“Here, master Sirius,” he whispered, sneaking the spoon to the boy. His eyes widened as he took the spoon, he was transfixed. Tentatively, he poked out his tongue, and licked the smallest morsel from the spoon. The taste made his mouth water, and his smile split his face and he hastily licked the spoon clean. Even the house elf chuckled along with glee; Sirius’ joy was contagious._

_“What on earth do you think you are doing, boy?”_

_A hush fell over the kitchen and any shred of happiness had been sapped from the room. Sirius felt his stomach churn, the spoon trembled now in his grip. In a few short, calculated steps, his Mother stood before him._

_Her fist was wrapped up in his shirt, pulling him down off of the counter-top, and planted his feet firmly on the ground. She stared at him, eyes cold and fierce; she expected a response to her questions._

_“Mother I- “ a sharp slap cut him off. Maybe she didn’t need an answer after all. The only sound that cut through the deafening silence was a gasp from the house elf who had been stirring the mixture, the one who gave Sirius his first experience of licking the spoon. The one who was doing what any normal mother would do with their child. Sirius shut his mouth and turned his gaze to the floor. At seven years old, he had learned that it was better if his Mother didn’t see his eyes fill with tears._

_“P-P-Please, M-Madam Wa-Walburga, it was n-not Master Sirius’ fault. I-I…I allowed-“_

_Another sharp slap resounded through the kitchen, this time the gasp came from Sirius. He looked to the house elf who lay on the floor now, clutching a tiny hand to his face. Sirius turned to his Mother. She stared down at him; a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth._

_“Go to your room. Be ready for the party by 7pm.” He didn’t need another invitation. He ran to his room and closed the door behind him, panting. Only then did he realise that he was still clutching at the spoon, his palm had the impressions of the intricate designs etched onto it due to the tightness of his grip. He slipped it into his pocket and vowed to return it to the kind house elf later that evening at the party._

_The hours passed and the party came, and Sirius wandered around the guests, avoiding people when he could and making polite conversation when he couldn’t, all the while looking for the house elf. All night he searched, but he never found him. In the days following the party Sirius watched as the house elves filtered in to serve the family their food at meal times, to bring the washed clothes to his room. Some of them refused to look at the boy, while some offered him sympathetic smiles. He figured that his Mother had gotten rid of the house elf, sold him to another family just to spite him._

_When Bellatrix came around to visit a few weeks later she came to find Sirius. She grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt when he wasn’t looking and she dragged him, kicking and screaming, to his least favourite room in the house; the gallery. The gallery held portraits of the most beloved Blacks, those who devoted their time to the Dark Arts and served as ‘inspiration’ to the family. On the other side of the gallery was a wall of heads, the mounted heads of the house elves who had served the family and died as their property._

_Sirius hated the room, it gave him nightmares, and Bellatrix knew it. She forced him in further, and grabbed a fistful of hair, pulling back his head so he had to look at the house elves decapitated heads. There, on the very end, was a new addition. It was him; the house elf he’d so desperately been looking for. The one who showed him a molecule of kindness. Sirius froze, his insides churned. Eventually, Bellatrix had had enough and released him. He ran to the bathroom and retched._

_‘It’s your fault, he’s dead and it’s your fault,’ he_ _thought, over and over again. That night he fell asleep clutching at the spoon, a ritual he couldn’t shake until his second year at Hogwarts._

The sound of a screaming kettle shook Sirius from his memories, and he scrubbed at his eyes with his fists. He gave himself a moment or two to recover, but then forced his body off of the bed and carefully guided himself to the bathroom.

He made extra care to avoid his own gaze in the mirror today after the shock that he had had yesterday. After splashing his face with some cold water and brushing his teeth, he felt marginally better. As he turned to leave, he noticed another pile of clothes left out for him, this time a pair of black tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt with The Rolling Stones on. He smiled as his picked up the t-shirt, remembering all the times he and the Marauders had screamed the lyrics to Sympathy for the Devil in the Gryffindor common room, much to everyone else’s annoyance.

He slipped the clothes on, wondering how on earth Mabel had a Rolling Stones t-shirt laying around the house. He hoped she hadn’t gone out and bought it for him while he was sleeping. As it settled over his slender frame, it hung loosely on his shoulders. He cringed as he looked down at it, realizing how much his body had changed in the last week or so. The trauma, the lack of food or proper care was taking its toll.

As he padded out of the bathroom, the smell hit him like a train. Whatever it was smelt better than the Hogwarts Halloween spread, and that was saying something. It was sweet, like cake, and his mouth was watering. Slowly, and with some trepidation, Sirius made his way down the stairs, leaning heavily on the banister to avoid putting too much weight on his injured knee. He also deliberately made some noise, so that he wouldn’t startle Mabel.

Sirius crossed the hallway to the small kitchen now, and his heart ached at what he saw. Mabel, her white hair shining in the summer sun, was dancing her way across the kitchen, from the counter-top to the oven. As she pulled the over door open, the hot air blew her curls and she squealed in delight as she took the cake from the oven. She was adored in a pink, flowery apron and had oven gloves to match. She placed the cake down on the wire rack and turned back to the mixture that she was stirring, her body swaying in time to the music that was being played from the old radio in the corner. She hummed along with it too, her sweet voice echoed around the room.

Sirius leant against the door frame as he watched. His heart was clenching in his chest as he watched her, and he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was because this was normal to most people, coming down and finding their Mother or Grandmother baking food, humming happily to themselves. Or maybe it was because this woman was looking after him better than his own family did, and she had known him for less than a day.

Whatever it was, the feeling was beginning to overwhelm him, so he distracted himself before the tears fell. He looked around the room and noticed that the kitchen table was full – absolutely FULL – of food. There were scones, jam, cream, cakes, sandwiches, fruit salads, little sausages, scotch eggs, pork pies. His eyes couldn’t believe it. In the middle of the table was a glass cake stand, which remained empty. He figured that Mabel must have been working on the cake right now. Sirius continued to scan the room and noticed a suitcase in the corner, the lid of which was open, revealing clothes of all sorts. Jeans, trousers, shirts, jumpers. There were even a few pairs of shoes next to the case. Placed on top of the pile of clothes was a wicker basket, through which poked a few bandages. ‘Mabel’s been busy this morning,’ Sirius thought, wondering what on earth all of this was for. Before he could do anything about the sight before him, Mabel noticed his presence.

“Sirius, my love! How are you feeling? Here, sit down, let me get you a cup of tea,” she pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and Sirius sat down, speechless.

“Uhh, hi. Good morning Mabel. I’m…I’m okay thanks, still a little tired,” he said awkwardly, realizing that he had no excuse to say he was tired when all he’d been doing was sleeping when she had been up all morning doing all of…well, all of this.

“Well yes dear, I expect you are! You must have been through the wars. You’ll have to have another early night tonight, but you’ll soon get your strength back lovey,” she mused, pouring him his tea. What she said had struck Sirius.

“Mabel, thank you. But I really shouldn’t stay any longer. You’ve been more than generous to me, and I-I…I don’t want to overstay my welcome. I’ll be quite alright, honestly.” As Sirius spoke, Mabel had turned to face him. She leant back against the counter, her hand rested on her hip and she looked at him over the top of her large, round glasses. Sirius had to be honest, the look intimidated him a little bit. She looked…she looked like McGonagall.

He stared at her with wide eyes, a little afraid of what she was about to say. She assessed him for another moment.

“Are you done?” she asked.

“Uh, yes,” he muttered, playing with the hem of his t-shirt nervously.

“Good,” she said, nodding her head, “Sirius, do not have to stay here if you don’t want to. But let me tell you that you are more than welcome to stay, my boy. Okay? I wouldn’t have offered to let you stay in the first place if I didn’t mean it, and I mean it now when I say that you have a safe place to stay here.” She paused, looking at the confusion and conflict appear on Sirius’ face. She sighed and moved to the chair next to him. Clasping his hand in her own she looked him in the eye and held his gaze.

“You are a good boy, I can tell. I’m good at reading people, Sirius. Sometimes, good people have to endure cruelty. It’s not right, and it’s not fair, but it doesn’t mean that we will never experience kindness or goodness. It isn’t a trick, and I’m not forcing you to stay. But you should know that you are welcome here and it is safe for you here love, okay?”

Sirius had never been spoken to like this. His mind whirled at the words Mabel was speaking, his feelings torn. For now, he could only manage a few words.

“Yes, Mam. Thank you. I would love to stay here. If that’s okay,” he nodded. She smiled at him softly, and patted his hand.

“That’s settled then. Let me finish my famous Victoria sponge and we’ll have our afternoon tea, then I’ll get you all fixed up.”

……………………………..

If Sirius took even one more bite, he was sure that he would explode. He and Mabel had feasted on cakes and sandwiches for an hour before they called it quits, and everything was absolutely divine, especially the Victoria sponge.

“You must have been up at the crack of dawn to get all of this ready?” Sirius questioned, embarrassed by the extent to which Mabel had gone to, to cater for him.

“Oh no dear, just a normal 8am rise for me. It is 3.30pm now!” Sirius had not realised the time, he must have slept for 16, 17 hours. It still hadn’t felt like enough.

Sirius had insisted on washing up and after some expert pleading, he got his way. He liked washing dishes, not that he got to do it often, usually just at the Potter’s house. It felt therapeutic, like he was in control of scrubbing the slate clean, erasing the dirt and grime and making the plates shining again. He wished that you could control life as easily as that, just wipe away the bad bits.

With his hands covered in suds and the plates slowly but surely starting to gleam, Sirius nodded in the direction of the suitcase.

“What’s all that?” he asked quietly. He thought he knew but didn’t want to assume. Mabel turned to see what he was referencing and smiled proudly when she saw what he meant.

“I collected some clothes for you love. You can have a dig around in a bit, see what you like.” Sirius felt his cheeks blush; this woman was going to so much effort for him.

“I-I hope you didn’t spend any money on that? It, well, it looks like a lot, Mabel,”

“Oh, hush, you’re such a worrier!” she teased him, but then caught the look of fear in his face. “It didn’t cost me anything my love, I just asked a couple of neighbors if they had anything spare. Lots of them have sent kids off to university this year you see, so they were more than happy to free up some wardrobe space,” she sipped her tea, eyeing him carefully. Sirius could feel her gaze and forced a smile.

“That was very kind of you, thank you Mabel.” He focused on the dishes. “I’ll have to find a way to repay you one day,” he said quietly.

“Well, when you’re feeling better, maybe you can help me get some photos from the attic,” Sirius held himself up a little straighter at the idea that he could do something in return for Mabel. “I’m too old to get up the ladder now…”

“Yes!” he said much too quickly and a little louder than he intended. He coughed, and tried again, “Yes. I would be happy to!” He smiled a little brighter now as he finished drying the dishes, stacking the final one on the pile.

“Good. Thank you for doing the dishes love, now come here and let me see that knee. I’ve been dying to get you bandaged up all day. Go and sit in the living room, I’ll bring the kit in.”

Sirius nodded, but picked up the basket of medical supplies on his way past; he didn’t want to let her carry it, even if it did strain the slices on his back to bend down to pick it up. Mabel tutted at him and rolled her eyes, and he threw her one of his cheeky smiles. She smiled back, the rosy apples of her cheeks became more prominent as she did so, and her button nose wrinkled. Sirius realised that he was falling more in love with this woman every moment he was with her. He trusted her like she was family, as ridiculous as it was.

He sat himself back in one of the comfortable armchairs while Mabel pulled up two stools. She sat on one and placed the other between herself and Sirius, instructing him to pull up his trouser leg and place it on the stool. He did as he was told and tried not to wince too much as the material brushed the tender knee.

Mabel inspected it quietly, prodding gently at certain areas, trying to assess the damage. Sirius didn’t really know what she was looking for, but he hoped that she wasn’t too appalled. He studied her face as she inspected the injury. Her glasses were perched high up on her nose now, and she’d leant down close to his leg. The wrinkles between her eyebrows were defined more so than usual due to her concentration and her leathery old fingers brushed over the area as gently as possible. ‘She knows what she’s doing,’ Sirius thought.

Mabel reached over to the wicker basket and withdrew some antiseptic wipes and cream and covered the broken skin with it. Sirius watched as she removed some gauze and bandages, wrapping the knee firmly and securely. She tied it off and looked up at him for the first time.

“Is it too tight?” She asked softly, to which he responded with a calm shake of his head. “Okay, good. Can you lean down towards me so I can clean the cuts on your face and head too please, love?” She spoke so softly, with not judgement. Sirius obliged and shifted his knee from the stool and leant to rest his forearms on it, so Mabel didn’t have to stretch and strain herself for him.

Again, she busied herself without comment, cleaning the cuts from his Mother’s spells and his Father’s fists. She applied some paper stitches on some of the deeper cuts. She cupped his face in her hands for a moment after she had finished. He looked at her, and saw no pity in her eyes, just kindness. She let go and sat back. She looked at him, expectant. Her gaze left Sirius confused for a moment, he wasn’t sure what she was trying to say to him without words. She must have sensed his confusion.

“Can I dress the other wounds?” Her words stunned Sirius; how could she know? He blinked at her a few times before slipping the oversized shirt over his head. As he sat before her bare-chested, he felt vulnerable. He hoped that when he turned around, she wouldn’t change her opinion of him. She wouldn’t feel overwhelmed with pity and not be able to look him in the eye again. He saw her gaze flicker from the marks left on his chest from the cruciatus curse, to the bruising on his ribs from the falls he’d taken. He drew a breath and turned around, and he heard the smallest gasp slip from Mabel’s mouth. If you hadn’t been straining to listen for a reaction, you wouldn’t have heard it.

“I need to clean these cuts Sirius, it might sting a little, okay?” He nodded, unable to get his mouth to form the words in his state of vulnerability. Her touches were light again, but the antiseptic that seeped into his wounds did indeed sting, and he bit down on his bottom lip to stop from moaning. After a few minutes, Mabel had finished cleaning and set about covering the cuts on his back. She taped down a few large pieces of gauze rather than wrapping his torso in bandages.

“Okay, love, I’m finished.”

He turned around, eyes set firmly to the floor.

“Thank you,” he mumbled as he slipped the t-shirt back on.

“You’re welcome, Sirius.” Mabel collected the used cotton swabs and antiseptic wipes and scurried away to the kitchen to put them in the bin. Sirius had to admit that he felt a lot better with his wounds cleaned and properly covered. But his shame leaked out of him. He wished that Mabel hadn’t had to deal with that, she was too old to be burdened with his shit. She appeared again and plopped herself down into the armchair opposite Sirius and raised her chin as she spoke to him.

“I know how it goes, love. You’re feeling all shy now aren’t you?” Sirius blinked in disbelief – he was sure this woman could read his mind. Maybe she was a witch. She laughed slightly and continued.

“I told you, I was a nurse. I’ve seen it all. And the big, strong lads like you always get embarrassed when they’ve been looked after,” she sighed a little, a flash of sadness crossed her face quickly, before vanishing again. “The best thing to do is to talk about it, to get it all out there in the open. No more tiptoeing around it. I won’t force you to, of course, but I’ve done my fair share of listening and I’ve been told that I’m very good at it.”

She sat back, expectantly. Sirius was speechless, again. He had never really told anyone about what his family did to him. James knew that it was an unhappy home, sure. He knew Sirius got a slap or two, but he’d never wanted to burden him with the details. He’d gone to great lengths to hide the scars of his previous injuries too, so no one really suspected that Grimmauld Place was quite as horrific as it actually was. Sirius had never wanted anyone to look at him with pity, so he’d hidden it.

But Mabel already knew. She’d seen it, she’d seen it all. She was the first person to know what injuries he had, so maybe she’d be a safe person to talk to. His head was screaming no, he’d had his walls up for so long it felt unnatural to let them down and to reveal his suffering. But at the same time, his heart longed for someone to care, for someone to hold him and to tell him that it would all be okay.

He looked to her again. Her kind eyes studied his own, as she cupped her tea in her hands. The soft smile appeared again to reassure him. He took a deep breath.

“M-My fa-family did this to me,” he stuttered, his voice shaking from the terror her felt sharing this. It felt…unnatural. Mabel kept her face calm, reassuring.

“They’re, uhh, they have a high social standing, they demand a lot. I-I never…I never really met their expectations. I don’t think th-they ever r-really lo…” Sirius drew a breath. “I don’t think they ever really l-loved me.” He looked down; he studied his hands like they had just turned green or something. He gathered himself and tried to compose his thoughts.

“They believe that they are s-superior to others, th-they associate with people who are evil and who want to s-see others suffer. I-I was due to follow the family traditions, to agree with their beliefs, but I couldn’t Mabel, I-I just couldn’t.” His voice began to crack but he pushed on.

“I said n-no, I found out what they wanted me to do, and I said no. My Father, h-he hit me. He doesn’t n-normally do that, normally t-that’s my M-Mother’s job. She…” he faltered. “S-She cut off my hair, she’s a-always been cruel. They w-wouldn’t let me out b-but I escaped, and I-I just ran,” tears fell silently from his eyes now and he wiped them away viciously. “And that’s when you found me.” He looked up finally to Mabel, who’s own eyes were shining with tears. There was a moment of silence, of contemplation, before she stood up and wiggled into the seat besides Sirius.

He snorted a little as she tried to worm into the single seater armchair with him, the laughter sounded foreign and out of place in this moment. Sirius scooched over a little to allow her some more space and looked at her wrinkled face that was so close to his own. She didn’t want the space though, and she wrapped her arm around his shoulders, pulling him in close to her. Sirius stayed tense for a moment, shoulders rigid and neck bent awkwardly.

He could hear the ticking of the clock, and with each second that passed he felt himself relaxing into the warm embrace of his savior. He let his head inch closer to her, until eventually it rested on her shoulder. She brought a hand up to stroke his hair, and he closed his eyes. He’d never been held in a loving embrace. Sure, James had hugged him and so had Euphemia and Fleamont, but never after Sirius being so open and honest. Never had someone accepted him knowing how dark his life could get.

The two sat like that for a long time, Mabel holding Sirius like a child, and Sirius accepting the love he so desperately craved. It was Sirius who broke the silence though, as the sky turned from orange to navy outside the bay windows.

“Thank you, Mabel,” he whispered as he sat up again. “No one has ever shown me such kindness.”

“Everyone deserves kindness, lad,” she replied, mirroring Sirius’ actions as she too sat up.

“If you don’t mind, I think I will take up that offer of another early night…” Mabel beamed at him and nodded eagerly.

“Of course, Sirius!” She practically leapt from her seat, “Why don’t I fix you something to eat thought, before you head off?” Sirius breathed out a laugh at her joy.

“I’m honestly fine, thank you, I’m still full from all of your cakes!”

“Hmm, okay, but I’ll be making sure you have three hearty meals from now on, okay?”

“Yes mam,”

“Okay, off to bed then sweetheart,” Sirius stood up and looked at her and bent down to her level. He planted an uncertain kiss on her cheek. He felt stupid doing it, he didn’t know if that was normal; his Mother had never kissed him. Before he could think too much about it, Mabel’s hands were on either side of his face, pulling him back down, so she could return the kiss to his forehead.

Sirius studied her after, just for a moment, and realised that this is who she was. A Mother. She had children and grandchildren, and a kiss on the cheek or forehead didn’t cause her stress, it brought her happiness. Sirius decided that he should let it bring him joy too. He smiled at her, genuinely. He hoped it relayed his appreciation.

“Goodnight Mabel,” he spoke gently.

“Goodnight Sirius,” she replied softly. “Sleep well, my love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading guys! Let me know what you think about this chapter in the comments *thanksloveyoubye*


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